


Cosmotropolis

by meyghasa



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Androids, Eventual Smut, Getting Together, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Shower Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-02 20:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 51,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8683060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meyghasa/pseuds/meyghasa
Summary: In a city deep in struggle between 'probots' and 'robophobes', Kuroo is just another nobody working at the tourist bureau.  Life is pretty tame until Bokuto takes him to a club, Nekoma, and he meets an android who will change his life.





	1. Nekoma

Kuroo ran an absentminded hand through his nest of bedhead hair, another vain attempt to smooth it into submission. Three of the blinking red lights in a bar across the wide hallway facing him turned green, one after the other, indicating the successful docking of three new ships to the spaceport. Depending on the size of the ships, another rush could be coming. He glanced over to his right and saw his coworker, Sugawara, subtly straighten his spine and readjust his warm smile as he also noticed the switch from red to green. 

A soft swelling murmur of voices echoed down the hall, a prelude to the crowded noisiness that was about to fill the main plaza of the tourist welcome center. Big crowds, then. Kuroo stretched his arms in front of him, cracked his knuckles, and plastered the nicest smile—smile, not smirk, must keep the smirk hidden—possible to his lips. “Looks like a big crowd,” he said jovially. “The next hour’s going to fly by. I love this time of day.”

Sugawara glanced over and smiled. “It is always better to be busy than not, isn’t it?” he said good-naturedly. Then again, when was Sugawara ever not good-natured? He fixed his smile firmly in place as the first of the passengers rounded the corner into the stark white hallway, heading in the direction of the counters. Many of them, the ones who either lived in the city or visited often enough to be kept on record, would keep walking, past the counters, through the crisply painted white metal arches, into the city beyond. But many of them would stop and ask questions or register themselves, and that was where Kuroo, Sugawara, and their third coworker, Kiyoko, came in. As the official welcomers of the tourist bureau, the three served as the first impression of the bustling city of Cosmotropolis for hundreds of people a day. That first impression required a smile with too many teeth, black suits pressed to perfection, and a warm, friendly demeanor that never lost its temper or spoke poorly to the tourists. Every question was answered with a smile and when the answer was unknown, the correct answer was, “I’m so very sorry, let me find the answer for you as soon as possible.”

It wasn’t the most thrilling of jobs. The questions could get tedious; there were only so many thousands of times you could run through the map of must-see restaurants without feeling a slight listlessness. Even so, Kuroo found he was good at it. His natural charisma made the tourists feel at ease and his slightly flirty nature elicited more than one shy smile or soft blush. It was his job to make people comfortable in a new city, after all. If he could do that with the quirk of one side of his mouth or a flirtatious bat of his eyelashes, he would do it. They all had their own charms. Sugawara had a natural goodness about him that drew people in. Kuroo had never once seen him lose his temper, inside or outside of work. That angelic face hid a true heart of gold. Kiyoko was quiet; Kuroo never could understand how someone like her ended up working in a customer-facing job. She answered questions with efficiency and calm, tending to each customer in the least amount of time possible. She never wasted time on small talk; each word she said had meaning since she said so few words. 

She was also fucking adorable, but Kuroo would never say that out loud.

As the first customers approached the counter, Kuroo stood up straight, affixed his smile, and prepared to answer the endless questions he knew were headed his way.

Kuroo had suspected that the influx of new customers would make the time pass quickly, but the next two hours flew by in a flurry of questions and registrations. Tourists would hold out their coils—bands worn on the arm that expanded into a holographic interface—and he would dutifully punch in their registration codes and beam all relevant information into their devices. He would then spend a few minutes pointing out places of interest on the coil, all depending on what the person was interested in. Here was the trendy new nightclub in the heart of downtown. Here was the restaurant with the five-star chef that was known across the galaxy for his spicy chocolate cakes. 

With this batch of newcomers, he was not very surprised to see that they were overwhelmingly human. Overwhelmingly, but not entirely. About an hour into the rush, the next person in line was undoubtedly an android. Though they were designed to look quite human—all the better to blend into human society, had been the original thought of the creators—subtle differences made them fairly easy to spot if you were paying enough attention. First, they ran hot. Standing next to one, it was easy to feel the smooth warmth radiating off of their skin, a testament to the complex circuitry that lay beneath the synthetic skin. Due to this, they tended to dress in cool clothes that allowed air to move around them freely. Some wore flowing dresses that kissed against their skin in translucent fabrics. Some wore tank tops and loose-fitting pants. Many went barefoot, though this was less popular and considerably more frowned-upon in general society. 

Second, the tones of their skin were often very subtle variations of regular human skin tones. Many could run slightly more grey than a normal healthy human would ever be, possibly due to the metal beneath the skin. From dark to light skin tones, androids ran the gamut of human variations.

The third difference could only be discerned if one really looked carefully, though it was often easy to do thanks to the loose or skimpier clothes they wore. Running along their arms and legs were extremely faint lines of circuitry. No matter the robot’s skin tone, the circuitry was tinted to almost identically match. This helped them blend in. No one was entirely sure why this circuitry was on the skin instead of hidden beneath. Some speculated that it was to help with senses like touch and feeling temperatures. Some thought it was to make them stand out more so that they could be more easily distinguishable from humans—this was a particularly sticky subject. Some wanted robots to look more like humans, some less so that they were more easily identified and avoided. 

The final difference, at least in terms of physicality, was the eyes. The eyes would always be the biggest giveaway that one was interacting with an android instead of a human. Though not always unusual colors, their eyes were always a shade more vibrant than a normal human’s eyes would be. Even this would be fairly easily overlooked if not for the web of constantly shifting circuitry that spun in their irises. It was a subtle shifting, almost unnoticed unless one was really watching, but definitely visible to anyone paying attention. 

Kuroo loved their eyes the most.

This particular android customer approached Kuroo’s counter with a serene expression. His eyes were slightly upturned at the edges, the eyelids drooping almost sleepily over deep brown eyes. Those eyes were woven with an intricate web of gold circuitry. Soft curls framed an angular face, the mouth perpetually set into the downturn of an almost frown. Whatever his business with Cosmotropolis, he didn’t seem all that pleased with it. He wore a long, flowing gown of diaphanous fabric twisted into a knot at his hip. The fabric was a lovely grey that offset his eyes perfectly.

“Welcome to Cosmotropolis, heart of the galaxy!” Kuroo said for possibly the five hundredth time that day. His enthusiastic cheer had not died down for a single one of the greetings. “My name is Kuroo Tetsurou and I am pleased to be your virtual guide of the city this afternoon. May I please see your coil?”

The android wordlessly lifted his arm and extended it towards the counter. A small reader sat on the counter between them, and Kuroo gestured to it with a finger. The android swiped his wrist over the reader and elicited a cheerful beep with the action. 

“Thank you, Akaashi,” Kuroo said, glancing down at his holographic screen as the android’s information populated. “Furukodani! I’ve always wanted to visit; I hear it’s beautiful. Lots of owls, if I remember correctly? My best friend grew up there.”

Akaashi almost managed a smile as he nodded. “Many owls,” he agreed in a soft voice. 

“What brings you to Cosmotropolis? Business or pleasure?” Kuroo’s fingers swiped over the holographic keyboard with practiced ease as he chatted. A few presses and the map of Cosmotropolis was being beamed to Akaashi’s coil. Another press and a series of overlays loaded on top of it—restaurants, night life, shopping, businesses. Kuroo carried it all out with the practiced efficiency of his two years on the job.

The android shifted, looking almost nervous for half a second before schooling his features. “Both, I suppose,” he responded in his calm voice. He lifted his coil in front of him and swiped a finger through the air, lingering over the shining interface until the map of the city came into view. He spent a moment analyzing the map before turning his attention once more to Kuroo. “Could you tell me the easiest way to get to the Metal District?”

 _Junktown_ , Kuroo automatically supplied in his head. It’s what most humans called it, and the nickname sat heavy on his tongue whenever he slipped it into conversation to fit in. Cosmotropolis was split into three wards. The Patrician District was strictly human and housed most of the business district and the upscale shopping and nightlife. The Green Light District was a blend of human and robot, not as upscale as the Patrician but still upscale enough that you didn’t (usually) feel like you were going to get jumped at night. Emphasis on the usually. Then there was the Metal District, the all robot underbelly of the city. Humans worked and did seedy business there, but no humans lived within its borders. The ironic thing was that it wasn’t the robots—usually—that one had to worry about when walking the streets of Junktown. It was the other humans, criminals hiding away in a part of the city that no one clean would ever want to touch.

“Of course,” Kuroo said aloud, making sure to keep any discomfort from his voice at the thought of how rundown the area robots were forced to stay in was. He leaned forward slightly across the counter, running a finger over the display. “We’re here at the tourist center spaceport,” he began, pointing at the corresponding dot. He traced an outline from the spaceport across the other districts. “From here, you follow this path to get to the Metal District. Is there somewhere in particular you are trying to get to?”

Akaashi shook his head. “I will know it when I get there. Thank you.” 

“Great. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Again, Akaashi shook his head. “Thank you for your help.”

Kuroo smiled with a short bow. “Enjoy your stay in Cosmotropolis!”

He would have been lying if he said he was giving his full concentration to the rest of his customers after speaking with Akaashi. The Metal District. The seedy underbelly of an otherwise beautiful city, the only place robots were legally allowed to live. They could work in the Green Light District—never the Patrician—but couldn’t own or rent property there. Just one more example of how androids were considered lesser citizens. It made Kuroo deeply uncomfortable. 

It wasn’t just the Metal District that bugged him. The endless feuds between the “probots” and “robophobes,” as they had come to be known, were only increasing in intensity. It had become a political issue, probots petitioning the government for more robot rights while the robophobes did everything in their power to hinder the process. It wasn’t uncommon to see at least a handful of protesters outside the glass and steel building that housed the Cosmotropolis government officials on any given day. Kuroo had to pass them on the way to the monorail to and from work, and it got under his skin every time. Why deny robots rights? They were just as important as humans. Just as capable, just as responsible, just as willing to be upstanding citizens. All they asked for in return were basic citizen rights. To Kuroo, it seemed like a no brainer. 

Then again, Kuroo had been firmly in the probot camp ever since he first met an android in the flesh, so to speak. That android had long since abandoned Cosmotropolis for a planet more welcoming to the robot community, but the meeting had changed Kuroo’s life. Beforehand, he had been neutral on the ideas of robot rights. It was something he peripherally knew about but never gave much deep thought to. When the people around him went on about Junktown and the denizens therein, he shrugged and went along with it. It didn’t affect him, so why put much thought into it?

Ushijima taught him otherwise. They definitely hadn’t been friends; the android was too stoic and off-putting to really be considered friend material. But he was interesting, frank and to the point. When Kuroo had questions—and did he ever have questions—Ushijima answered them without hesitation. Personal emotions never factored into it, and Kuroo felt that his education from Ushijima was better than anything he ever got in school. 

After meeting Ushijima, Kuroo started paying attention. He listened to the protests. He read the news. He watched the news reports and tried to siphon through the legitimate information and the fear mongering. And he discovered that the more he learned, the firmer he found himself in the probot camp. It was like he woke up.

He could still remember the first time he ventured to the edge of the Green Light District. He was lucky enough to be part of a family that lived in the modest apartments on the border of Green Light and Patrician. It was an 11 story building made of metal and glass with an overlook into the Green Light District. He had heard more than one neighbor grumble a bit at being so close to the lower part of town, but he never paid much attention. With a job at the tourist bureau and friends ensconced firmly in the Patrician district, Kuroo never had a reason to venture into Green Light. 

Then he met Bokuto. Bokuto, who wasn’t afraid of anything. Bokuto, who took life by the horns and lived it to the fullest. Bokuto, who fought his demons daily and somehow always managed to win, even when the win felt hollow after several days of subsequent battles. Bokuto could be… difficult. His mood swings made it such that one could never be entirely sure which Bokuto they were going to meet that day. When he was down, he was so far down that he never was sure he would get up again. When he was up, he was flying, dragging everyone up with him as far as they could go. He and Kuroo had hit it off immediately. Kuroo loved his enthusiasm and Bokuto found a stabilizing force and a friend who wouldn’t bolt at the sight of sadness. Best friend status was inevitable.

Bokuto was a frequent visitor of the Green Light District. He loved the different kind of lifestyle there, where everything was more real and less pristine. He loved the restaurants where the food was greasy and delicious. He loved the nightclubs where the music was loud and the press of people surrounded him on every side. He loved the vintage record shops and the seedy bodegas and the family-owned ramen shops. It was only a matter of time before he dragged Kuroo along with him.

It started small. Kuroo felt like an explorer, like he was taking some huge step for mankind when they crossed the street that separated the two districts. It was ridiculous, really. Bokuto wandered across the street with a grin, throwing his arms out to the side and shouting, “Come on, bro! You’re expanding your mind!”

And it did feel like he was expanding his mind. They didn’t do much on their first excursion. Bokuto took him to his favorite comic book store and then they stopped by his favorite ramen shop. Kuroo was surprised to see that the head waiter of the ramen shop was a robot. To Bokuto, it was nothing. He had a handful of robot friends and was as comfortable with them as he had ever been with any humans. Kuroo wanted that same kind of familiarity. He hated feeling like he was viewing the robots like they were in a zoo. He hated forcing himself not to stare, forcing himself not to map the fascinating circuitry that stretched across their skin. He hated the feeling of Them vs. Me. But he was working on it, would continue to work on it. It was a work in progress. 

From then on, it became a recurring pattern. Bokuto showed him all kinds of new places. They found shops at which they became regulars. Kuroo found his own favorites among the shops and restaurants they frequented. They even hit up the nightclubs once in a while. 

It was the nightclubs that Kuroo loved most, though he would never say that out loud, exactly. He loved the mass of people moving together under flashing lights. He loved the steady thrum of bass echoing in his head, timing with the beat of his heart. He loved the sparkly, multicolored drinks. He loved meeting strangers, human and android alike. He loved that both lost themselves in the music and the press of a crowd, racial divides forgotten as they moved together on the dance floor. It was the one time he forgot the probot vs. robophobe debate, forgot his own troubles, and let himself just be Kuroo. 

It was remarkably freeing. 

The last handful of customers had just exited the terminal when Kuroo’s coil beeped softly. He lifted his wrist and fiddled with the buttons until the screen popped up. A message from Bokuto.

“I’m just going to go on break for a few minutes, okay?” he said to Sugawara. He received a nod in response and disappeared into the back room. Like the rest of the bureau, it was modestly decorated and painted in pristine white. Unlike the rest of the bureau, it was a little more run down since only the employees saw the inside of it. A row of lockers lined one wall and a table with several chairs around it sat in the middle of the room. In the corner sat a small kitchenette with a sink and a mini fridge. 

Kuroo flopped into one of the chairs and threw his feet up onto the chair next to him, slouching down until he was comfortable. He tapped on his coil until the message from Bokuto popped up—a video message. He carefully lowered the volume, knowing how enthusiastic his friend could sometimes be and not wanting his voice to carry out to the main desk, and hit play.

“Hey hey hey!!” Bokuto shouted. He was up too close to the camera, all eyebrows and big, goofy grin. As expected, his voice was several decibels louder than a normal person. “Kuroo! We have plans tonight! I know you’re not busy because you _said_ you’re not busy tonight and it’s Friday which means we have to go out on the town! I heard about this amazing new night club in Green Light. It’s called Nekoma and I thought we should try it out!” The grin slipped a little bit before beaming back at double wattage. “Now it’s getting a liiiiittle close to the Metal District so it’s good the two of us will be there together but don’t worry, okay! It’s going to be just fine! I heard nothing but good things and you know Iwaizumi hates clubs but he said Oikawa dragged him to this one and he didn’t have a horrible time so according to Iwaizumi that’s like a five-star rating, right! Anyway, the coords are gonna come following the message. Meet me there at 8:30! See you then!”

As promised, his coil beeped again and his Cosmotropolis map was updated with a small blinking yellow dot. Nekoma, huh? Well, it was worth a try. As if he could ever say no to his overenthusiastic friend anyway. 

Kuroo headed to his apartment as soon as his shift was over, waving goodbye to Sugawara and Kiyoko as he left. The monorail was crowded with passengers getting off work, standing room only. He sighed and slung an arm around one of the poles, settling in for another cramped ride as he pulled up a novel he had been reading on his coil. The trip was about twenty minutes and he was relieved to finally step foot onto the platform nearest his apartment. Another five minutes of walking and he was swiping his coil in front of the reader at the apartment door, listening for the beep and entering as soon as access was granted.

His mother wasn’t home, but this wasn’t surprising. She tended to work the late shift at a trendy restaurant downtown and their schedules rarely matched up except on weekends. Even so, Kuroo had a good relationship with his mother. She left meals for him with little pink notes attached and bragged about her upright son who had such a wonderful job at the travel bureau to all her friends. Kuroo couldn’t ask for much more.

He headed down the hall from the foyer and stepped into his room, closing the door behind him despite the fact that he was alone in the apartment. Slinging his bag over his desk chair, he set to work unbuttoning his long-sleeved black work shirt and shucking out of the undershirt beneath. He glanced at the clock—only 6:45. He had time for a shower before meeting with Bokuto and he felt anxious to wash the busy day off. 

After showering and trying yet again in vain to tame his bedhead, Kuroo slipped on a pair of comfortable black jeans, a red t-shirt, and his leather jacket. He wasn’t sure what kind of nightclub this was, but that served as his typical nightclub attire. As he slipped a bracelet over his wrist, he headed to the kitchen to heat up a quick dinner before leaving. 

By the time he was fed and properly dressed, it was just before 8:00 and he would be late if he lingered any longer. He slipped out of the apartment, locking the metal door behind him, and headed back to the monorail station. Luckily the car was much less crowded at this time of day and he was able to actually secure a seat in the middle of the car. 

As the monorail zoomed down the track, Kuroo let his mind wander. A nightclub near the edge of the Metal District… it could be dangerous. Bokuto wasn’t always the most self-aware when it came to dangerous situations, but he also wasn’t the type to drag Kuroo into danger just for the sake of having a good time. Being near the Metal District meant that it would probably be more android-friendly, too. Biting his bottom lip, he pulled out his coil and did a search. 

_Nekoma—Green Light District’s premiere hangout for both androids and humans. Enjoy a live DJ, specialty drinks, and interesting clientele!_

A few photos, a drink list, and not much else. Kuroo wondered just how premiere it really was. Not that it ultimately mattered; if he could have a drink and unwind, he would be happy. Maybe he could find a good dance partner, too, if Bokuto found someone to drape himself over, as he often did. Overall, he was cautiously optimistic. Bokuto had rarely let him down so far, so he didn’t expect that he would start now.

The pleasant electronic voice announced his stop and he put his coil away and made his way to the door. Once he stepped onto the platform, he glanced around. It didn’t look much different than the rest of the Green Light District so far. He had already memorized the route from the map Bokuto sent, so he headed to the stairs and out into the open air. 

The streets were bathed in neon lights. He passed shops, restaurants, other clubs, and apartment buildings that all glowed in neon pinks and blues against the gloom of twilight. It felt almost surreal to walk down the sidewalks crowded with people looking for their evening’s entertainment. He knew it was about a ten-minute walk to Nekoma from the train station, and since he was early, he took his time to soak in the atmosphere.

Until he rounded a corner and the atmosphere changed drastically. 

It started with the sounds of punching fists punctuated by snarling curses and the occasional kick. A few steps more and the tableau came into view: three men hovering over—and beating senseless—another, much smaller man. Kuroo couldn’t make out what they were saying from his distance, but he could pick out a swear or two as the men continued their vicious beatdown. 

Kuroo didn’t have time to berate himself for potentially being the world’s biggest idiot to get involved in this situation as he shouted, “Hey!” and tore down the street at top speed towards the group. “Get away from him!” 

The three men looked up in unison. “What’s this then?” the largest of them sneered, licking across his teeth in a disgusting gesture as he cracked his knuckles—bloody from where they had been bashing the victim. “Are you here to save the day, then?”

“Something like that,” Kuroo replied with a smirk as he darted in. Using the upper half of his body as a spear, he wrapped his arms around one of the men’s waist and propelled them both forward until the man’s back hit the wall and he slumped to the ground, winded. Kuroo spun around, dropping into a fighting stance as the two remaining men advanced on him, the man they had been beating forgotten on the ground behind them. When one lunged forward, Kuroo dropped to one knee and swung himself out of the way, throwing his left hand forward until the palm of his heel smacked into the large man’s nose. The man howled and clutched at his face, blood gushing from between his fingers. Kuroo kept up his momentum, pivoting in a full circle and aiming a stiff-fingered salute to the second man’s throat.

This attack was not so lucky. The man batted his hand away and threw a punch that landed squarely on the high rise of Kuroo’s right cheekbone, snapping his head to the side. That was definitely going to bruise later, and explaining that at work was going to be a fun time. Kuroo took a moment to shake the stars from his vision when he suddenly saw the man swear in surprise and tumble to the sidewalk. The person they had left cowering on the ground with his arms over his head was now glaring with eyes of fire, his leg extended to where he had kicked the back of the attacker’s knee and sent his leg crumpling. 

“This isn’t worth it, man!” shouted the larger of the three. “Let’s get out of here!” Dragging themselves to their feet, the two on the ground took off at a quick limping pace, followed immediately by the one in charge who was still nursing his nose. 

The threat abated, Kuroo took a moment to collect himself before remembering the man on the ground. He quickly dropped into a crouch, propping his forearms on his knees. Now that he was paying attention, his breath caught in his throat.

This man, this victim, was _gorgeous_. Stunning despite the dirt smudged across his cheek from being pressed into the sidewalk and the way his hair was ruffled and tangled. Alluring despite the way he was nursing his left arm with the long, delicate fingers of his right hand. Attractive despite the fact he was sitting in the middle of the sidewalk having been beaten within an inch of his life. 

On top of it all, he was an android.

Kuroo swallowed hard. The android was gazing steadily at him, looking wary despite the fact Kuroo had basically saved him not two minutes earlier. Maybe it was the way Kuroo was staring at him, but he couldn’t not stare at him. His skin was pale, long crisp lines of circuitry running in smooth gold across it. The mess of tangled hair was shoulder length and, in an interesting decision, two toned bleach blond and black at the roots. A pert mouth was drawn into a low frown. But most captivating of all were his eyes. His eyes. Bright, searing gold cat’s eyes that seemed to gaze into his very soul. They were blown wide, maybe with fear, maybe with adrenaline, maybe a combination of both, and Kuroo was absolutely captivated by them. The shifting circuitry in his irises were an even more piercing pure gold. 

_Get it together. He’s probably scared to death._ Kuroo took a deep breath and softened his voice as much as he could. “Are you okay?” 

The android shifted his weight and ran both hands through his hair, smoothing it back into place. Kuroo noticed for the first time his attire: black jeans and a hoodie. The hoodie surprised him, since androids tended to run hot, but the way he was curled up into it, Kuroo suspected it might be more of a courage device than needed for actual warmth. The hoodie made it impossible for him to discern what injuries the android might have, since most of its body was covered.

“My self repair should be able to take care of it,” the android said at last. Kuroo suppressed a shiver at the sonorous tone of voice. Now was not the time. A moment’s pause, then the android asked, “Are you?” He reached out and touched the bruise blossoming on Kuroo’s cheek. Kuroo felt the blood rush to his face, centering on that one point of contact. The android dropped his hand after only a moment, but the careful brush of his fingers left points of fire in their wake. 

“Uh, yeah,” Kuroo coughed. “Nothing some ice won’t handle. I’ll be fine.”

Kuroo stood up and reached a hand down to help the android to his feet. It took the android a moment of hesitation before he slid a warm hand into Kuroo’s, tugging slightly as he pulled himself upright. He brushed his hands over his pants, trying to clear the sidewalk grime off. Sighing, he reached down for his backpack and slung it over his shoulders. 

“Can I help you get somewhere?” Kuroo asked. He didn’t like the way the android was favoring his left arm and leg. Those seemed to have taken the brunt of the beating. 

The android shook his head and pointed to a building on the corner of the block. “I’m just going there. I should be fine.”

Kuroo followed the finger and his mouth opened into a little ‘o’ of surprise. “Nekoma? You’re headed there?”

Tilting his head, the android just looked at him. “Yes?”

“It’s your lucky day, so am I,” Kuroo grinned. The expression on his face indicated that it was not in fact his lucky day and Kuroo was an idiot for suggesting such a thing. Kuroo was unperturbed. “It looks like you’ll have a handsome escort. Are you meeting someone there?” He started walking, the android falling into step beside him. 

“I work there.” 

The walk was concluded quickly and Kuroo paused outside the double doors. He could feel the thrum of the bass from the music inside. He turned to the android and extended a hand. “I’m Kuroo.”

The android glanced down at his hand and back to his face before turning his head away in a shy gesture. It took a moment for him to clasp Kuroo’s hand for only a moment before pulling away. “Kenma.”

“Kenma,” Kuroo repeated, saying the name like he was tasting it on his tongue. “Pretty name. You going to be okay?”

Kenma ducked his head, his hair falling into his face. “I’ll be fine.” He paused, long enough that Kuroo almost turned to go inside. “…Thank you.”

With a big grin, Kuroo clapped Kenma on the shoulder—gently though, in case it was injured. “Anytime. Just consider me your knight in shining armor, okay? Always ready to come to your rescue.”

“…Right.” Kenma looked at him with one cocked eyebrow before shaking his head minutely and disappearing inside. 

Kuroo grinned like a fool after him. “Kenma,” he whispered to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, friends! This is my first contribution to the Haikyuu!! fandom and I hope you enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Though the number of chapters is still unknown, the entirety of the fic (all 50,000+ words of it) is written. I am just working on editing it right now. Speaking of editing, I would love to have a beta, so if you're interested, please contact me on tumblr.
> 
> This fic is inspired by a lot of things and I will be putting up some supplemental inspirations in the notes of each chapter. If you're looking for the basis of Cosmotropolis, it's a combination of the Citadel from Mass Effect and the city in Remember Me. I shamelessly stole probots and robophobes from Celldweller and Scandroid because those labels are far catchier than anything I could come up with. Coils were taken from Dramatical Murder.
> 
> Your feedback is precious to me and I thank you for any you give.
> 
>  
> 
> aazeris.tumblr.com


	2. Inside Nekoma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo and Bokuto make it inside Nekoma. Bokuto meets the most beautiful man he's ever seen and unsuccessfully tries to be the world's best wingman. Kuroo tries to seduce an angel. Okay, maybe seduce is a strong word. But Kuroo is smitten all the same.

Kuroo lounged outside, leaning against the brick wall of the building with his arms crossed as he waited for Bokuto to show up. It was only just past 8:30 and Bokuto running late was nothing new. Kuroo’s face was killing him; the bruised area was thrumming with his heartbeat and he knew it would not be pretty in the morning. Still, it had been worth it. 

Kenma. Something about it felt like fate. It had been a long time since attraction had hit Kuroo like a freight train, and he certainly never expected it would be with an android he saved in a street fight. Vaguely he wondered what the fight had been about. He hadn’t thought to ask, and Kenma had practically run inside the moment he could, disallowing any further conversation. Still, he said he worked there. Kuroo had to see him again at some point, right? Maybe he could even chat him up, find out more about him.

He tilted his head back to rest against the cool brick and looked around him. The night sky shone pale orange from light pollution, and only a handful of stars were visible on the horizon. The neon lights seemed to permeate every corner. Even the stylized Nekoma sign overhead was glowing a neon red, beckoning people inside. The street was lit in unearthly tones but it looked ethereal, magical. Kuroo smirked. Maybe it was just a magical kind of night, the pain in his cheek aside.

“Kuroo!” 

Kuroo lifted his head and glanced over to see the flailing form of his best friend careening down the street at a run. Bokuto had his signature wide grin that abruptly fell off as he got close enough to Kuroo to see his face. “What the hell happened to you?”

Kuroo brushed a finger over the sore spot and gave Bokuto a half-cocked grin. “I rescued a damsel in distress. You going to buy me a drink for my heroic efforts?”

Bokuto shrugged in a grand gesture and opened one of the double doors with a beaming smile. Kuroo knew he would get the third degree after a couple of drinks were in them. Bokuto loved a good story, preferably punctuated with sweeping gestures and shouting. Kuroo would be happy to oblige once he had a drink or two in him. After all, it wasn’t every day one was a hero for a beautiful, beautiful being. Kuroo wanted to tell Bokuto all about Kenma, what little he knew. Given what he did know, most of it would be soliloquizing about the color of Kenma’s eyes and the delicate pout of his mouth. Important, of course, but Kuroo couldn’t help the spark of interest burning low in his belly that told him to seek Kenma out and get to know him better. 

They entered Nekoma and were immediately assaulted by deep, thrumming music and a press of people. The interior of the building was the sort of futuristic design that Kuroo had come to associate with some of the classier nightclubs in the Green Light District. Although it was overall dark, there were pulsing streams of light sweeping in multiple colors over the dance floor that occupied half of the ground floor. A throng of people moved in unison on the floor, dancing in time with the music from the DJ who stood on a raised platform at the back of the room. The right side of the first floor was occupied by the bar, a long, metal thing with neon pink lights running just under the edge of the bar top. Shining metal barstools dotted along the bar in symmetrical intervals and almost every seat was full. Booths and tables made up the rest of the space. In the back of the room was a spiral staircase that led to the loft-style second floor, metal railings allowing those above to look down on the dance floor below. 

Kuroo could immediately tell that the bar was comprised of equal populations of humans and robots. A little thrill went through him. He wasn’t sure why the androids were so fascinating to him, but he certainly wouldn’t be opposed to finding some handsome dance partner to occupy him for the night.

Bokuto led them through the crowd to the bar, snagging two barstools that were miraculously empty. The bartender was down at the other end, helping other customers with his back turned to them. Kuroo blinked. That hair was awfully familiar. Now that he was paying attention, the bartender had a slight build, shorter than most of the other patrons. Kuroo felt his heart speed up. Kenma had said he worked at Nekoma. Surely he couldn’t be so lucky that he was the bartender, could he?

The bartender turned around and Kuroo’s heart skipped a beat. Sure enough, cat’s eyes met his from across the bar. Kenma looked momentarily surprised, the barest widening of his eyes and parting of his lips the only sign before he schooled his features and made his way down the bar. 

Kuroo was captivated. Not only was Kenma’s face incredibly attractive, but the outfit he had on… it was amazing. The shirt was made of shiny black leather, high at the throat but sleeveless and showing off the slim muscles of Kenma’s biceps. The circuitry on his arms shone pale in the flashing lights of the club. The black pants he wore hugged slim hips and tapered down to a pair of black combat boots. 

_I am so fucked._

Affixing his most charming smile, Kuroo leaned on the bar with his chin propped on his palm. “Who would guess my luck?” he drawled as Kenma stopped in front of them. “When you said you worked here, it was too much to hope that you would be easily accessible.”

Kenma gave him a flat, unimpressed look. Kuroo didn’t let his confidence falter. “What can I get you?” Kenma said in his smooth voice. 

“You’re the expert,” was Kuroo’s reply. “Bartender’s choice—as long as it’s glowing.” He grinned toothily. With another blank stare, Kenma turned from them to the long glowing shelves of bottles behind him. 

Now that he was paying attention, Kuroo noticed a few blotches that marred the smooth skin of Kenma’s arms. He assumed they were an android’s version of bruises, spots on the skin where the circuitry was damaged or the metal beneath the skin was flawed and fluid was rushing to the surface. Those men had been vicious, and it showed on the bartender’s pale arms. Kuroo had to resist the urge to reach out and run his hands over them in soothing circles. Somehow he didn’t think Kenma would appreciate the gesture. 

Kuroo glanced over at Bokuto and was surprised to see him glancing between Kuroo and Kenma with a furrowed brow. “You’ve never been here,” Bokuto said slowly. “How do you know the bartender?”

Running a hand through his hair, Kuroo looked almost sheepish. “Remember that damsel in distress I mentioned? You’re looking at him.” 

Bokuto glanced between them again. “This sounds like a story I need to hear.”

Kenma returned with two drinks. To his credit, they were both glowing neon blue. Kuroo laughed, and Kenma almost smiled. Almost. “This is perfect. Just what I wanted.” Kuroo pulled one to himself and slid the other to Bokuto. 

“You should try it before you say that,” was Kenma’s quiet response. “Enjoy.” He turned away and wandered back down the counter to another set of customers that had approached. 

“I think I’m in love,” Kuroo sighed as he lifted his drink and took a sip. It was delicious, slightly fruity with a pleasant kick behind it. It seemed like just the kind of drink Kenma would serve and Kuroo loved it. 

Bokuto laughed loudly, raising his glass to clink against Kuroo’s. “So tell me how you met this mystery bartender. I’m assuming it’s got something to do with that shiner?”

Kuroo recounted the story, making sure to make it dramatic so as to not lose his audience’s attention. 

“And then he came inside and I waited for you. Come to find out, my lovely damsel is the bartender. It has to be fate, right?” 

Bokuto grabbed Kuroo in a headlock and shook him back and forth. “Definitely fate, bro! You’ve got to get his number or something! Yo Kenma!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. 

Kenma jolted from where he was mixing a drink with his back to the bar, looking over with wide eyes. Kuroo slapped a hand over his face and groaned. “You’re killing me. Literally killing me. I am dying right now.”

“You’re gonna thank me later,” chuckled Bokuto as Kenma came over. 

“Can I… help you?” Kenma asked haltingly, one eyebrow raised. He glanced at Kuroo before turning his attention back to Bokuto. 

“You might not be able to help me, but you can help my buddy here,” Bokuto said, slinging an arm around Kuroo’s shoulders and tugging him close despite Kuroo’s protests. “You see, he’s madly in love with you and needs your number. You wouldn’t let a desperate man go mad with longing, right? Right?”

Kenma blushed. _Blushed._ Could androids blush? Kuroo found himself staring even harder, his mouth dropping open at the dusting of pink across Kenma’s cheeks. It was… really, really cute. I want to pinch your cheeks and then kiss you on the mouth cute. He was having trouble controlling the impulse. 

There was an uncomfortably long silence in which Kuroo damned Bokuto a thousand times in his head for being so forward. Sure, he could be a damn good wingman sometimes, but Kuroo got the feeling that Kenma needed a gentle touch. He seemed skittish, shy. Not the type of person to react to sweeping declarations of love after approximately five minutes of knowing someone. 

“I… can’t do that,” Kenma said at last, ducking his head so that his hair hid his face. “Sorry. I’ve got customers waiting.” He turned and nearly jumped away like a skittish cat. 

Kuroo slammed his face into the bar, hissed at the smack of metal on his smarting cheek, and groaned loud enough for Bokuto to hear over the pulse of the music. “I can’t _believe_ you told him I’m in love with him. I was joking!” Bokuto folded his arms, not convinced. “Okay, I was _mostly_ joking,” Kuroo amended. “I definitely want to get to know him better. I definitely want his number. But sometimes you can’t just approach things like a freight train, Bo!” 

Bokuto spread his hands innocently and smiled. “I was just trying to help you out, bro. Knowing you, you would be mooning over him for weeks and would never actually work up the courage to ask him for his number until months from now. You’re not exactly smooth, y’know?”

As much as he wanted to argue, Kuroo knew Bokuto was right. Kenma needed a deft touch, that much was obvious, but Kuroo also knew he would have trouble working himself up to actually pursue him. He just seemed so out of his league. But there was so much he wanted to know. What did Kenma do in his spare time? How did someone so naturally shy and quiet end up as a bartender at a night club? Why was he being beaten up in the streets? So many unanswered questions. Now he was worried his chances were shot to hell altogether thanks to Bokuto’s kindly-meant “help.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said after a moment of quiet contemplation. “I know, you’re just trying to help. Still, I think Kenma needs… I dunno. Special treatment. He seems kind of shy, doesn’t he?”

Bokuto took a long sip of his neon blue drink and nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. You’re still gonna try though, aren’t you? I mean, come on! He blushed and everything! Can androids even do that? I never saw one blush before.” 

Kuroo felt damn near blushing himself thinking about it. “I didn’t know they could but… yeah, apparently they can.” And they were fucking adorable doing it, turns out. 

“Okay!” Bokuto shouted. “Enough mooning. We tried our best and he said no, but we’re not gonna sit here and feel sorry for ourselves, right?” He pumped a fist in the air. “We’re here to enjoy ourselves despite any damsels in distress that break our hearts!! Are you with me??” He extended the same fist he had thrown in the air towards Kuroo for a bump, and Kuroo obliged him with a laugh. 

“You’re right. We came all this way; we damn well better enjoy ourselves while we’re here.”

Bokuto clinked his glass against Kuroo’s and then slammed it back in one go, only coughing once in a terrific display of alcoholic mastery. Kuroo chose a more sedate chugging method, finishing his drink in three pulls instead of one. Drinks finished, they placed them on the bar and Kuroo fished out more money than was strictly necessarily to leave under his glass for a tip. He might not be lucky enough to get a number, but he could at least show his appreciation, right?

As they turned from the bar, Kuroo shooting Kenma one last glance—his back was turned again, damn it—a new song switched over from the DJ booth. Bokuto howled and jumped with his fists in the air. “I _love_ this song!” he shouted at top volume. “Come on, let’s dance!”

It was hard not to get caught up in Bokuto’s energy. Kuroo let himself be pulled into the sea of dancers without any complaint. The song was a good one; Kuroo recognized it vaguely, maybe from another of the nightclubs they had been to. Pounding beat and electronic overlay. He felt it thrumming in his bones and with the alcohol flowing through him, he let himself gradually loosen up until he was moving with the music. He was stiff at first; he always was until he found his rhythm. Bokuto was flailing wildly next to him, as enthusiastic as he ever was, but Kuroo didn’t pay much attention. He closed his eyes, let himself find the pulsing beat. His hips swayed. His arms floated at his sides. His head tilted back and forth. It was slow at first, but then he gained speed until he was matching the tempo of the music. Here it was: that one moment of perfect synergy. He felt a smile slide across his lips. This was what he loved the most. 

He let himself be swept up in the music for first one song, then the next, and the next after it. But as he danced, he started to get the odd feeling of being watched. It made the hairs on the back of his neck raise a bit, and he felt curiosity peak. Was it a potential dance partner? Usually they tended to gravitate to him once he was really in the groove. This was the perfect moment.

Kuroo opened his eyes and glanced around the dance floor. No one seemed to be paying him much attention and no one seemed to be psyching themselves up to approach him. Disappointing, but not the worst thing. He didn’t _need_ a partner to enjoy himself. But then what was the source of the eyes on him? He could still feel them even now, despite not seeing anyone in the immediate vicinity who seemed to be paying attention. He let his eyes sweep past the dance floor, stopping on the tables near the bar, drifting over the barstools, and finally stopping when he saw the source.

Kenma was staring right at him. 

Kuroo’s heart hiccupped into his throat. That stare… it was intense. It made Kuroo think maybe he wasn’t imagining the tug of attraction he had felt between them earlier on the street. They held each other’s gaze for one moment, two, five, ten, and then Kenma seemed to snap out of it and realize he had been caught. Kuroo could see that beautiful, beautiful blush spread across Kenma’s cheeks—seriously, how could a blush be so attractive?—before he jolted and spun around to the rack of bottles, turning his back to Kuroo.

It didn’t matter. Kuroo had caught him, and that was all Kuroo needed to know he had to come back. He had to pursue this… this whatever it was. This string between them. This unnatural attraction the strength of which he hadn’t felt in _years_. He wanted to know everything about Kenma. He wanted to kiss him all over his face until he elicited another gorgeous blush. He wanted to fold Kenma’s small frame in the safety of his arms and hold him until he squirmed uncomfortably and told him to stop without any heat in his words. Kenma seemed like the type who would get easily embarrassed with excessive displays of affection, and if there was one thing Kuroo loved, it was excessive displays of affection. So he was a romantic. Who could blame him?

He realized he had gotten lost in his thoughts—again—and shook his head slightly to clear it. Okay. He had a plan. Come back. Come back as many times as it took for Kenma to do more than serve him drinks and scuttle away when Kuroo’s smile got too intense. Find out if he liked to do anything besides serve drinks and get beaten up on the sidewalk. Find out what the whole getting beat up on the sidewalk thing was about. Eventually, get his number. Smooch his face. Get married. Live happily ever after.

“You have a dumb smile on your face! What’cha thinking about?” Bokuto shouted over the music. 

“Definitely not marriage and happily ever afters!” Kuroo shouted in return before he turned his back on his friend with a laugh. Let Bokuto stew over that one. Obviously he had been talking about Kenma, but Bokuto was used to Kuroo getting carried away after five years of best friendship. 

A few more songs went by. Kuroo danced to them without letting his eyes drift over to Kenma in a true test of mental strength. Another really excellent song had just started when suddenly Kuroo felt a hand clutch at his arm and tug hard. He stumbled as he turned around, and Bokuto grabbed his chin and jerked it hard into a particular direction. 

“BRO.” 

Kuroo blinked a few times and eyed the people at the tables Bokuto had pointed him to. He didn’t see anything that particularly stood out. “Uh?” was his eloquent response.

“ _Bro._ BRO,” Bokuto was stammering, shaking Kuroo back and forth with the hand on his arm. 

“You’re not really helping me out here, Bo,” Kuroo said, laughing. 

Bokuto tried to get himself together enough to make some sort of coherent sense. “Look. Curly hair. Grey outfit. _He is the most gorgeous person I have ever seen,_ ” Bokuto hissed with intensity. “Look at him!! Find him! He’s right there! _How can you miss the most beautiful man on this planet??_ ”

“Dude, if you would stop shaking me, maybe I could see straight,” Kuroo replied, tugging Bokuto’s hands off him. He rescanned the group of people before he finally picked out the person Bokuto was talking about. It had to be him; he was the only curly-haired grey-wearing person in that part of the club. Something about him was familiar. He squinted and the man turned slightly towards them. Once Kuroo could see his face, he gasped and grinned brightly. “Dude. _Dude._ I know that guy! I can introduce you!”

Bokuto’s jaw dropped open and he placed both hands on Kuroo’s shoulder and shook him again. “No way! No way! You have to do it! You have to do it right now! I can’t go another _second_ without knowing that angel’s name!” 

Kuroo laughed. “His name’s Akaashi. He just got to Cosmotropolis today. I met him at the bureau this morning. He said he was coming to the Metal District, but I had no idea he’d make a stop here. Come on, I’ll make up your terrible, terrible attempts at flirting with Kenma for me with an introduction.”

The two moved from the dance floor over to the table where Akaashi stood momentarily alone. He seemed to be looking for someone, his eyes scanning over the crowd before continuously landing on the double doors of the entrance. When Kuroo and Bokuto approached, he looked confused, glancing around him as if there was another person they could be approaching. 

“Akaashi?” Kuroo asked as they came to a stop in front of his table.

“Yes?” Akaashi said in his soft voice, looking momentarily startled. As he gazed at Kuroo for a moment longer, a flash of recognition lit his eyes. “Ah. You’re from the tourist bureau, correct? We met earlier today.”

Kuroo grinned, tilting his head to one side. “Good memory. It looks like you might be waiting for someone, but we couldn’t stand to see you over here by yourself, and my friend really wanted to meet you.” He gestured to Bokuto who was rocking back and forth on his heels undoubtedly trying his very best not to launch forward at Akaashi and drag him off to a corner somewhere to make out with him. Bokuto had trouble with impulse control.

Kuroo wrapped an arm around Bokuto’s shoulders, pulling him forward slightly. “Said friend. Akaashi, this is Bokuto. Bokuto, Akaashi. Akaashi just got to Cosmotropolis today and I desperately hope he’s not alone on this planet waiting for someone to come meet him. However, if he is alone on this planet waiting for someone to come meet him, I definitely think it should be you.” He finished his little speech with a lopsided grin. 

Akaashi looked between them, confusion plainer than ever on his smooth features. “Hello,” he finally said, looking at Bokuto. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Bokuto reached over and grabbed Akaashi’s hand, shaking it several times before letting go. “I am so happy to meet you,” Bokuto breathed, leaning in too close with wide eyes. “You are amazing, Akaashi.”

“Er,” was Akaashi’s eloquent reply. Kuroo winced. Hopefully Akaashi wasn’t easily scared off by intensity, because his best friend could be intense. Case in point, he still hadn’t leaned back out of Akaashi’s space and was looking at him like he had just discovered a new sun. 

“Bokuto works at a restaurant here in the Green Light District,” Kuroo said, nudging Bokuto with his foot in an effort to get him to chill a bit. “I bet he’d be glad to show you around if you needed an escort. He knows all the best places to hang out. And he loves hanging out! In totally low-key ways that won’t be so intense that they would scare you off,” he added, grinding a foot on Bokuto’s boot. 

Finally, Bokuto seemed to get the hint and leaned back to stand up straight again. “Yep!” he cheerfully agreed. “If you’re new here, I bet you need someone to show you all the best spots, right? I can totally be that person! I love to hang out! I love meeting new people too!”

Akaashi twisted his fingers in the fabric of his skirt and glanced away for a moment. “It does seem that the person who was going to meet me tonight may not be showing,” he said after a moment. “I… would not be averse to perhaps sharing a drink with you, Bokuto-san.”

“Yes!!” Bokuto shouted, throwing his hands triumphantly in the air. It took every ounce of his willpower for Kuroo not to viciously facepalm. 

“I’ll go grab your drinks,” Kuroo said, secretly delighted for an opportunity to go bother Kenma again. “What are you having, Akaashi?”

“Ah, I don’t mind. Whatever Bokuto-san is having.”

“Something fruity and glowing then. Gotcha.” Kuroo winked and turned back to the bar. He would not skip. He would not throw his fists in the air and make a damn fool of himself like Bokuto. He would be calm and collected and super cool so Kenma would realize that he was a huge catch that he should give his number to.

Yep.

There was only one spot open at the bar as the club continued to fill to max capacity the later it got. Kenma didn’t seem ruffled at all as he moved up and down the bar, filling drink orders. Kuroo slipped into the empty space and waited, allowing himself these few precious moments of just _watching_. Despite the frown of disinterest and the slow shuffle of his feet, Kenma seemed damn good at what he did. He was efficient, no movement wasted—probably because it seemed like too much effort to mix the drinks in the first place, so why waste any time? 

The bruises on his arms were starker under the neon lights than they had been earlier in the evening, bringing a frown to Kuroo’s lips. He wondered how much pain Kenma was in. Androids were programmed to feel pain, right? He wasn’t actually sure. He didn’t seem to be limping or anything despite the way he had earlier been slightly favoring his left leg. Maybe his self repair function was running? Could he do that at the same time as working?

There was so much he didn’t know, Kuroo realized with a start. And he wanted to know so much.

Kenma finally noticed him at the bar and warily approached, glancing around him undoubtedly to see if Bokuto was with him. When he saw Kuroo was alone, his shoulders relaxed a fraction. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just here to order drinks,” Kuroo said with a smile. Kenma almost smiled back, but remained silent, probably waiting for said drink order. Kuroo had one thing to say first. “Look, I’m sorry about Bokuto. He can be, uh, overenthusiastic. It’s one of the things I love about him, but I know it’s not for everybody. Just… try to ignore what he said, okay?” He paused, realized what he had said, and quickly backtracked. “Not that I’m not interested!” he amended, waving his hands in front of himself. “I am definitely interested. I just don’t want to scare you off. I mean, I’m sort of interested. Not in a creepy way or anything.” _Jesus Christ, please stop talking_. “I mean. Uh. I guess I should order drinks, right?”

“That is what I’m here for,” Kenma deadpanned. “Although this is… interesting.”

_Oh god. Interesting. This is an absolute disaster._

“Yeah, well, what am I here for?” Kuroo said with his best attempt at a smooth smile. “So. Drinks. That fruity glowy one you made for us last time was pretty tasty. Can I get three of those?”

“Three?” Kenma asked with a raised eyebrow.

Kuroo gestured behind him at the table where Bokuto was very animatedly and excitedly gesturing in a conversation with Akaashi, who looked quietly bemused. “We got a friend.”

Kenma laughed softly, and it was such a cute sound that Kuroo felt his heart thump painfully against his ribcage. _Get it together, man._ “Three fruity, glowing drinks, coming up.”

Kenma turned from him and pulled the requisite bottles from the shelf. Kuroo watched every movement with captivation. One shot of this, two shots of this, one dash of this, another dash of that, all poured into a shaker and shaken in a figure eight. Kenma did this three times, poured the drinks into tall glasses, and brought them to Kuroo. 

“Thanks,” Kuroo said. “Hey, is it okay if I leave mine here and drop them off at their table? A good wingman stays out of the way when things are getting good.”

With a long, flat look, Kenma eventually nodded. “I’ll hold your place.”

“You’re the best.” Kuroo grabbed two of the drinks and headed over to where Bokuto and Akaashi were still in conversation. With a grandiose gesture, he placed the two drinks on their table. “Two fruity, glowing drinks, as requested,” he said with a smile. Turning to Bokuto, he said in a quieter voice, “All good?”

“ _So_ good,” Bokuto replied with a big, goofy smile.

Glancing at Akaashi showed the same, much more muted, sentiment, so Kuroo spread his arms wide and backed up a few steps. “In that case, I have an angel to seduce. You kids have fun.”

So maybe seduce was a strong word, but at the very least he had an angel to ogle and perhaps get to know better, if he wasn’t too busy. Kuroo headed back to the bar and slid onto the barstool, surprised to see that Kenma had not moved from his spot in front of Kuroo’s seat. 

“I was saving it for you,” Kenma said, a touch shy, when Kuroo quirked a curious eyebrow at him. “I have work to do.” It sure looked like a retreat, but Kuroo would give it to him this time. 

Kuroo was content to watch. He didn’t scan the bar for someone to talk to or dance with. He just sipped at his drink and let himself watch Kenma work. His surveillance meant he saw Kenma give a few glances his way over his shoulder, much to his delight. Sure, he might just be checking to see if he needed anything, but Kuroo chose to interpret it quite differently. 

Slowly his drink dwindled, and by the time he was sucking up the melted fruity ice, Kenma found his way back over. He was so cutely small, Kuroo thought. He wanted to hug him. He looked huggable.

“You aren’t dancing,” Kenma said, grabbing the glass and rinsing it out under the counter before putting it in a tub to be washed. 

“Ah, yeah,” Kuroo said, startled out of his thoughts. “I guess I got all my dancing out early. Now I’m otherwise engaged.”

“Staring at me while I work?”

Ouch… busted. “Uh. Maybe?” 

Kenma’s lips tilted up in a little smirk. “You’re not very good at subtlety, are you?” 

“Nope. Never have been. Sorry.” 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Kenma dipped his head and let his hair cover his face. “It’s… okay. You’re not as abrasive as your friend.” With an effort, he met Kuroo’s eyes again. “Do you want another?”

Kuroo nodded. “Thanks. Last one, I promise. It’s got to be getting close to closing, isn’t it?” He glanced at his coil. 3:30. Had it really been so long since they got here? It felt like an hour, maybe two at most. No wonder Kenma was wondering at his odd behavior. He would probably feel a bit weirded out if someone had sat for over four hours watching him and drinking, too. Craning his neck around, he looked for Bokuto and Akaashi. They weren’t at the table they had been. He kept scanning the crowd and eventually found them dancing _awfully_ close on the dance floor. He couldn’t help but grin. Good for Bokuto. Kuroo knew he had been feeling lonely lately, so it was good for him to have found someone, even at random. 

“They seem to be getting along well.” Kuroo swung back around in his barstool to look at Kenma, who had followed his gaze to where Bokuto and Akaashi were dancing. “I suppose his enthusiasm doesn’t scare everyone away,” Kenma added with a little smile.

“Some might even say it’s one of his charms,” Kuroo agreed, leaning an elbow on the bar and propping his chin on his palm. The bar had emptied a bit, people having moved either to the tables that were free or migrating to the dance floor. Kuroo didn’t feel guilty trying to keep Kenma’s attention for a little longer while he wasn’t being pulled in twelve different customers’ directions. “Can I ask you something?”

Kenma looked wary. “I still am not giving you my number,” he said in a flat voice.

This startled a laugh out of Kuroo. “I wasn’t going to ask for it, I promise,” he said in his most reassuring tone. “I just wanted to ask—are you okay?”

“…Okay?”

Kuroo gestured across Kenma’s arms and the general rest of him and lowered his voice a bit so he could just be heard over the music without drawing a lot of attention. “I mean, they were pretty damn rough on you earlier. It’s showing on your arms at least, and I saw you limping a bit on our way in. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Kenma rubbed at the bruises on his arms self-consciously. “If I could still wear my hoodie to hide them, I would have,” he said somewhat bitterly. “People have been asking me what happened all night.”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Kuroo said with a frown. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t… I dunno. Need anything, or something. Do you have someone to take you home? I don’t know where you live, but I could—“

“If I’m not giving you my number, I’m definitely not taking you home with me,” Kenma interrupted. He was smiling somewhat, which helped lessen the blow.

“Right. Of course,” Kuroo said faintly, a flush of embarrassment working its way through him. “I just meant, those guys could still be around. I don’t know what happened, but if they’re waiting for you or something, I just want to make sure you’re going to be okay.”

“They aren’t after me. It was a random act of violence, I think. Do you always care this much about total strangers?”

Kuroo pressed a hand to his heart. “I’m always this kind,” he said in a benevolent voice, earning a small laugh for his efforts. The embarrassment faded a bit. “Seriously though, just tell me you’re not going home alone. Don’t let a poor stranger worry all night about you.”

Kenma sighed, then gestured to one of the bouncers by the door. He was a muscular guy with a bleached mohawk and _damn_ did he look intimidating. “He’s always offered. And if you don’t think I’m going to be safe with _him,_ I don’t know how to ease your mind.”

“Yeah, consider it eased,” Kuroo agreed. “He looks like he could bench two of me. But just… you didn’t answer my question. Are you okay?”

Kenma fiddled with a napkin. “It hurts,” he said finally. “But it’s nothing my self repair won’t take care of. You don’t need to worry.”

Kuroo tilted his head on his palm. “So you really are programmed to feel pain?”

“What?”

“Oh, uh. Androids. I wasn’t sure if you were programmed to feel pain or not. Sorry, is that rude to ask? It’s probably rude, right?”

Shaking his head slightly, Kenma bit his bottom lip. “It’s not… rude. It just caught me by surprise.” He pulled the napkin in half, then threw it away in a receptacle behind the counter. “Yes, we feel pain.”

“It seems like an odd feature to include,” Kuroo said thoughtfully. “Why make it so you feel pain if you don’t have to?”

“Control, probably,” was Kenma’s matter-of-fact answer. “The creators didn’t all have benevolent intentions in mind when they made us.”

Kuroo winced. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Kenma took a step backwards, glancing over Kuroo’s shoulder, a moment before two arms slung themselves around his neck from behind. “Kuroo!” Bokuto shouted in his ear. “What a beautiful night! This is the stuff of dreams!” 

Kuroo heard Kenma snicker and couldn’t help but grin. “I take it things went well with Akaashi?” he said, extricating himself from Bokuto’s arms and turning around on the barstool. 

“So good,” Bokuto said with a thousand-watt smile. “I got his number and everything! Today is so awesome! I’m so glad we came!” 

Kuroo glanced behind the bar where Kenma had wandered down the line. “Yeah, me too,” he said with a quiet smile. 

“And I hate to cut it short, really, but I’ve gotta work tomorrow so I have to go. You gonna stay?”

“No,” Kuroo said with a shake of his head. “I’m coming with, don’t worry. Let me just grab our tab.” He waved Kenma down, who approached them warily with a nervous look at Bokuto. “Can I get our check?”

Kenma stepped a few paces away and grabbed a small coil. He typed a few things on it and held it up to Kuroo. Kuroo lifted his own coil, heard the beep of a successful payment, and put it away again. He dug around in his wallet and pulled out as much money as he dared—not much, admittedly, broke bastard that he was—to slide across the bar to Kenma. 

“Thanks for a great night,” Kuroo said honestly. “It was awesome to meet you. Really.”

Oh, that blush! Kuroo would do anything in his power to see that blush as many thousands of times as he could. Kenma didn’t respond, only pocketed the money with a shy nod, covering his face with his hair again, and walked away. Kuroo slid off the barstool and slung an arm around Bokuto’s shoulders.

“What an awesome day,” he said with a grin. Bokuto hooted his agreement as the two made their way out into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the overwhelmingly positive response to the first chapter! I was going to wait and do weekly updates, but I finished this early and decided to give it to you early, too.
> 
> I envision Nekoma's music being similar to [the entire Tokyo Jungle soundtrack](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwZOCOfcMvcspvvRROUIQ_jeUJRTJKEvt). If you're curious about the particular song Kuroo is dancing to, it's [this one](https://youtu.be/n3r4C19gmQc). 
> 
> Nekoma's bar looks a lot like [this piece of art](http://aazeris.tumblr.com/post/104585718979/trowicia-commission-for-my-good-friend) that my talented friend did for the original Cosmotropolis (that is my robot OC Nevix who sadly did not make it into this fic). 
> 
> Again, your feedback is precious. Enjoy!
> 
> [aazeris.tumblr.com](http://aazeris.tumblr.com)


	3. Time Goes By

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes, Kuroo and Kenma get closer. Kuroo is a gross man and the sinning starts. Sorry (but not really).

“What happened to you?” Suga exclaimed when he saw Kuroo on Monday. 

He had expected as much. He tried using his mother’s foundation to cover the beautiful black eye he was sporting, but the skin tone was so off that it looked even worse. He ultimately had washed his face off and decided to bear the brunt of the criticism. It was already starting to yellow around the edges, so Kuroo was hopeful that it would fade before too long. Hopefully it would be gone entirely by the time he had to face his boss, who was, in a stroke of luck, out on vacation that week. He wasn’t sure how kindly his boss would take to the face of Cosmotropolis sporting a black eye. 

“I rescued an angel,” Kuroo said with a dopey smile. “Seriously, Suga. I’ve never met anyone like him. He has limited social skills and is the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. I’ve got to go back and see him.”

Suga raised both eyebrows and smiled. “You sound smitten. Where did you meet this angel?”

“He was being beaten to a pulp outside the club he works. Have you ever heard of Nekoma, over in Green Light?”

Suga blinked twice, surprise written all over his face before he carefully schooled his expression. What was _that_ about? “Oh… yes, I’ve heard of it. You were there?”

“Friday, yeah. Some guys were using him as a punching bag and you know me, I can’t let that shit slide.” Suga nodded. “So I intervened. He didn’t even give me a free drink for it,” Kuroo laughed. “ _Or_ his number. Ungrateful little shit.” 

With a laugh, Suga shook his head. “So when are you going to go back and see him? I know you, and you have to have a plan by now.”

Kuroo tilted his head thoughtfully. “I thought about it all weekend. He’s… well, he’s shy. Social skills and all that—damn weird for a bartender to be shy, but there it is. I think I’m just going to have to become a Nekoma regular until he lets me see him outside of work.” 

For some reason, Suga didn’t look pleased by this plan. “Ah. Well, be careful,” was all he said. Kuroo wondered, but didn’t press him. Maybe Suga had hang-ups about the district? Kuroo didn’t want to force the issue. From his behavior, he didn’t think Suga would be all that forthcoming as it was. 

“Yeah, of course. I think I’m going to go back on Friday. I imagine Bokuto would like to see the handsome guy _he_ picked up too.”

\---

As it turned out, Bokuto and Akaashi had their own plans on Friday. Kuroo was happy for them, but a little anxious to show up on his own. Would it seem creepy? It felt a little creepy. He didn’t want to come off as a stalker, but damn did he want to see Kenma again. Maybe they could chat a little more. Maybe he could get to know more about him. Maybe he could find out when his shift was over and they could get coffee.

Did robots drink coffee? Shit, he wasn’t sure.

Regardless, Kuroo dressed with special care that evening. He went through three different outfits before he settled on black jeans and a flannel over a black t-shirt. Casual but trendy, right? Or was he too casual? He had his hands on yet another shirt before he told himself he was being ridiculous and closed his closet with a decided slam. 

The bedhead… well, the bedhead he could do nothing about. Combing it didn’t work, styling it didn’t work. He just had to hope it made him look rakishly handsome instead of disheveled. 

“You’re being an idiot,” he said to his reflection. 

It wasn’t until he was almost to the monorail stop that he realized maybe Kenma wasn’t even working tonight. He hadn’t thought to ask him his schedule; he just assumed since he had been there the Friday prior. Well, too late now. He had even come a little later—just past 10:00—so that he didn’t see overanxious. He could always have a couple drinks, play it cool, dance a bit. And if he was prepared to stay until closing just so he could see Kenma off, well, he was a gentleman doing a gentleman’s duty. That’s all.

He pushed his way through the double doors and immediately sought out the bar. A noisy exhale of relief escaped him when he saw Kenma’s profile behind the counter as he handed over a drink with a nod. As the door closed behind Kuroo, Kenma glanced over and froze, his eyes widening as he saw Kuroo standing there. Kuroo gave him his best, most charming smile and sauntered over to the bar. Kenma approached him with hesitant steps.

“You’re back,” he said softly.

“Yep. Miss me?”

Kenma did not deign to reply. He glanced around Kuroo before tilting his head. “Alone?”

“Ah, yeah,” Kuroo said. “Bokuto had plans, and I needed a drink. I hope you don’t mind having my sparkling personality all to yourself tonight.”

With a small laugh, Kenma ducked his head. “You’re so embarrassing,” he muttered. Then, louder, “Do you want a drink?”

“Bartender’s choice. It doesn’t even need to be fruity or glowing.” He paused, suddenly feeling a bit shy. “Make me your favorite thing?”

“My favorite thing,” Kenma echoed, his soft voice thoughtful. “Just a moment.” He turned his back and made his way over to the shelves of bottles, pulling three down to the counter. Kuroo could only see some of his movements over his shoulder but he watched with rapt attention as Kenma mixed the drink. A couple of minutes later, Kenma replaced the bottles and walked back over, drink in hand. He slid it across the counter. “Here.”

Kuroo pulled the drink towards him and inspected it. It was inky black but somehow sparkling, the ice cubes glinting off whatever shining substance was inside. A dully glowing neon red swizzle stick stuck out of it, making the inside glow a dull red that reminded Kuroo of a beating heart. 

“What’s it called?”

Kenma flushed bright pink. Kuroo blinked at him, confused and enamored. “It doesn’t have a name,” he said shortly.

“I don’t believe you,” Kuroo said with a smile. 

Kenma’s blush only deepened. He fiddled with something behind the counter, his fingers nervous. “I’ll just call it a Kuro special.”

Maybe blushing was contagious, because Kuroo could feel the heat in his cheeks. God, how could someone be this adorable? It just wasn’t fair. “A Kuro special. I like it. Is this what you see when you look at me? It is pretty charming.”

“You’re so embarrassing,” Kenma said again, ducking away to help another customer. Kuroo grinned after him.

\---

Slowly, they fell into a routine. On Friday nights, Kuroo would show up between 10:00 and 10:30. Kenma would make him a Kuro special and he would warm the barstool. Sometimes he got up to dance, fully aware of the way Kenma’s eyes followed him as he moved across the dance floor. Of course, whenever he looked up, Kenma would quickly look away, but Kuroo caught him more than once. Kenma couldn’t spend all his time talking to Kuroo—he did have customers to attend to after all—but more and more he lingered by Kuroo’s stool when he wasn’t busy. They didn’t always talk. Sometimes Kenma just stood near him. Sometimes he would bring the bottles from the shelves over to where Kuroo was sitting and mix drinks while standing next to him.

Kuroo never commented, but his heart swelled with joy at these little ways they were getting closer. 

A couple of weeks turned into a month, which turned into two months. Kuroo only missed one Friday when Bokuto had absolutely insisted they go to opening night of a movie he had wanted to see. When Kuroo showed up the following week, Kenma frowned slightly as Kuroo slid onto a barstool.

“You didn’t come last week,” he said.

“Aw, did you miss me? I missed you too, kitten.”

“Kitt—“

“Ah, too soon for pet names? It’s definitely too soon, right? Sorry. That was weird. Uh, be right back. Restroom.” 

He scuttled away and splashed some cold water on his face in the bathroom. What was he _thinking?_ Sure, Kenma definitely reminded him of a cat. Skittish and sometimes prickly and only up for company if he wanted to be. But _kitten?_ God, Kuroo could smack himself. And the look on Kenma’s face…

Well, Kuroo hadn’t missed the blush, but that wasn’t _always_ a good thing. 

He just hoped he hadn’t pushed them back to square one. Not that Kenma struck him as the vindictive type, but he could easily slip backwards out of embarrassment. 

When Kuroo left the bathroom, instead of heading back to the bar, he made his way onto the dance floor. One of his favorite songs was playing, and he needed to clear his head from the blunder. He maneuvered his way into the middle of the crowd of dancers, shimmying his hips a bit as he walked. The song was fast-paced and peppy, synthetic keyboards overlaid with electronic noises and underscored by a deep, thrumming beat. It was just the thing to let him shut off his brain for a few minutes. 

As he often did when he was really getting into it, he let his eyes slip closed while his body fell into the rhythm of the music. He bounced in a slow circle, nodding his head back and forth, letting his hips swing with the beat. Slowly, he felt his mind clear, embarrassment fade. Thoughts of _kitten_ slipped away and his heart slid back into its normal cadence. 

Fingers brushed across his bare forearm. He ignored them; it was a crowded dance floor and it was hard not to bump into someone else when everyone was dancing. But then the fingers brushed him again, sliding around his wrist and pressing gently against the tendons before pulling away. That was definitely intentional, and Kuroo opened his eyes. He jerked backwards in surprise, almost falling onto the person behind him, when the hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him upright with surprising strength.

Kenma looked up at him with an unreadable expression. Kuroo stared back, speechless, all dancing forgotten. 

“I—“ Kuroo started, but Kenma shook his head firmly and—oh god—pressed one finger to Kuroo’s lips. Kuroo couldn’t help the way his tongue darted out to lick the spot he left behind, tasting the slight tang of alcohol. “But—“ Kenma shook his head again. “I mean, how—“ Kenma placed his hands on his hips, expression making it clear that his patience was nearing its end.

Right. Okay. So this was happening. 

Kuroo glanced over at the bar and saw a giant silver-haired man behind it. He turned his gaze back to Kenma, whose eyes said, “Okay, are you satisfied?”

The song blended into another, still high tempo but slightly more sedate. Kenma left his hands at his sides this time, but slowly began to move to the music. Kuroo followed suit, his hips dipping back and forth as he matched Kenma’s rhythm. Kenma’s eyes fluttered shut in a way that was very familiar, making it obvious he was losing himself to the music.

Kuroo couldn’t. Every nerve felt like it was on fire and his heart was beating double time. He felt like he was inside a dream. And if this was a dream, well, he could act in the brave, self-sure way Dream Kuroo always did, right?

Before he could let him talk himself out of it, Kuroo reached out and placed a hand on each side of Kenma’s swaying hips, fingers gliding over soft black leather. Kenma’s eyes flew open and a flush spread over his cheeks. But, importantly, he didn’t pull away like Kuroo half expected him to. Instead, he lifted his hands, placing them on Kuroo’s wrists, then slid them up his arms until they reached his shoulders. His fingers were so warm, leaving little trails of fire across Kuroo’s already-burning skin. Kuroo could feel Kenma’s body heat against his palms through the leather and his fingers tightened their grip. He took one step closer, bringing them only a few inches apart, and then fell back into a rhythm. 

Their eyes locked, and neither looked away. Neither closed their eyes. Neither lost themselves in the music. They were lost in each other, in this magical moment where there was just them and flashing lights and music. Kuroo forgot they weren’t alone. He forgot that they were in the middle of a crowded dance floor where Kenma worked. He forgot everything except the feel of Kenma’s slim fingers on his shoulders, the jut of his hipbones against his palms, the bright gold of his staring eyes. 

Kenma, who never did anything he didn’t want to do. Kenma, who had been approaching him centimeters at a time. Kenma, whose number he _still_ didn’t have. Kenma came to him, and Kuroo thought he could fly.

One song faded into another into another. They didn’t pull away. Kenma didn’t bolt like Kuroo kept fearing he would—surely he would come to his senses and realize what he was doing. But he didn’t. Instead he shifted closer, just an inch or so, but Kuroo felt it and took his own step closer. 

He was fucked. He was _so fucked_. 

Kuroo slid one of his hands further, smoothing over Kenma’s hip to press against his lower back, pulling him until they were almost pressed chest to chest. He snaked his other hand up between them, inside the bend of Kenma’s elbow where he still was gripping Kuroo’s shoulder, and brushed his thumb over Kenma’s pink cheekbone. The pale yellow circuitry on his skin was prominent against the flush of his cheeks. Kuroo pushed his fingers back, brushing Kenma’s hair back from his face and tucking the blond strands behind his ear before cupping his cheek gently. 

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he murmured before he leaned in and pressed his lips to Kenma’s.

Kuroo had often distantly wondered what android skin felt like. Was it modeled to simulate human skin as close as possible? Was it soft, pliable? Was the heat off-putting or alluring? 

He had not expected to have these questions answered by an angel.

Kenma’s mouth was hot, like he had been drinking hot tea. The skin of his lips was smooth, not chapped at all, and just as pliable as any human’s would be. When Kenma parted his lips and puffed a soft exhale against Kuroo’s mouth, he couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped him. His hand slipped around to cradle the back of Kenma’s head and he tugged Kenma tighter against him as the kiss escalated. Feeling unusually bold considering how damn _careful_ he was trying to be, Kuroo darted his tongue out and dragged it across Kenma’s soft bottom lip. What he didn’t expect was the soft brush of Kenma’s tongue against his own. He angled his head so that their lips were slotted together just right and then gently ran his tongue down Kenma’s. He felt rather than heard Kenma’s quiet gasp of appreciation. 

Finally, what felt like eons later, Kuroo pulled away. Their faces were still close, close enough that Kuroo could feel the soft panting breaths from Kenma’s still-parted lips. Kuroo couldn’t help the blinding smile that was forming on his lips. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to do that?” he murmured, just barely audible over the music. 

Kenma ducked his head to the side, the hair sliding from behind his ear and covering his face. “I can guess,” was his sardonic reply.

Kuroo laughed loudly. Ah yes, this was the Kenma he loved. He tucked Kenma’s hair back behind his ear and with a gentle finger under his chin turned his head back to face him. “Are you going to get in trouble for being out here?”

“I’m on break.” Kenma glanced over to the bar, where the giant was currently very clearly floundering in a sea of confusion. He frowned. “But I probably should not be.”

“He does look like he could use some help,” Kuroo agreed. Keeping his arm firmly locked around Kenma’s waist, he led them off the dance floor and back to the bar. Now that the time was drawing near, now that he had _permission_ , even if it was temporary, he found that he couldn’t bear to let go. How long would it be until he had this chance again? This feeling again? The soft press of Kenma’s body against his own as they walked, his warmth like the sun against Kuroo’s skin? 

He didn’t have time to ruminate on it. Kenma pulled away, brushing his first two fingers against the pulse point in Kuroo’s wrist, and ducked under the counter to relieve his coworker. 

Kuroo returned to his seat at the bar where his drink was still waiting. For the next half hour, he watched Kenma save his bumbling coworker, working their way through the orders with practiced ease. When finally they were caught up and the rush had died down, Kenma made his way back over to where Kuroo was sitting with his chin propped on his hand and a goofy smile on his face.

“This means I can have your number now, right? I mean, it has to mean that. Right?” Kuroo asked immediately.

“Embarrassing,” Kenma muttered, but he raised his right arm where the black coil sat snugly on his wrist. “Here.”

Heart soaring, Kuroo lifted his coil until it was next to Kenma’s. Kenma slid his fingers over the holographic display until it beeped, then lowered his arm again. 

It was late. Kuroo was drunk from one drink and the magic of his first kiss with Kenma. He knew it was time to leave—it was close to 3:00 already—and he could feel himself getting tired. But dragging himself away was hard. 

“I have to go do inventory in the back anyway,” Kenma said, slight exasperation tinging his voice at the way Kuroo was whining about not wanting to leave. “You should get home while you’re still conscious.”

“I’m going to message you constantly.”

“You better not.”

“I am. You opened the floodgates. Now you have to deal with the consequences.” Kuroo grinned wide. 

“I’ll block you.”

“You won’t. You gave me your number. You never do anything you don’t want to do.”

Kenma grimaced. “I’m regretting this already.”

“Sure you are,” Kuroo replied, his grin only getting bigger. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. Good night, kit—Kenma.” Oops. 

Kenma waved and disappeared into the back room.

On the monorail home, Kuroo couldn’t resist. 

Kuroo  
_**This was the best day ever.**_

Kenma  
_**you have low standards**_

Kuroo grinned the whole way home.

\---

They had been sitting on Kuroo’s couch for almost an hour, Kuroo’s chin propped on Kenma’s shoulder as the android sat nestled between his legs, playing his handheld game with precision. Hugging Kenma was like hugging a little heater or sitting under a kotatsu and Kuroo could not possibly have been happier to just sit and watch.

“Why don’t you play on your coil?” Kuroo had asked.

“I do sometimes. But I like having something in my hands. Sometimes holographic images just aren’t satisfying enough.”

“Can’t you… I don’t know, network in and play that way? Is that a thing androids can do?”

This earned him a flat look. “What fun is playing inside my head? Talk about unsatisfying.”

Kuroo squeezed his arms around Kenma’s waist a bit, tugging him closer to his chest. Kenma shifted between his legs, and while Kuroo had originally meant the action to be innocuous, he couldn’t help but notice the way he had quite accidentally pulled Kenma flush against his crotch. Well. Oops. But it was okay, he would concentrate on the game and—

Except Kenma was moving. He didn’t stay still and play. He shifted his weight and consequently rubbed himself against the spots he and Kuroo were pressed together. This was going to be a problem, was already becoming a problem as Kuroo felt his cock starting to jump to attention.

_Please don’t notice, please don’t notice. Oh shit._

No such luck. Suddenly, Kenma stilled, pressing pause on his game. The 8-bit music continued to play as Kenma glanced over his shoulder where Kuroo had hastily pulled back. 

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

Kuroo barked a surprised laugh. “ _Me?_ Seduce _you?_ You’re the one wiggling around and… look, I’m a man with, uh, needs and I’m only human, when someone is rubbing against me I’m going to… I mean, look—“

Kenma carefully set his game on the coffee table. He then stood up, turned around, and crawled back into Kuroo’s lap with one leg on either side of his thighs. He slid warm hands over Kuroo’s shoulders to lock loosely against the back of his neck. “I was going to say that if you were, it’s working,” Kenma said softly. His gold eyes were sparkling as he gently worried his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“It’s working…?” Kuroo repeated. Oh god, he could get lost in those eyes. 

“Mm.” Kenma brushed a finger over the shell of Kuroo’s ear, tracing down over the cord of tendon in his neck, brushing across one jutting collarbone. His warm finger left sparks across Kuroo’s skin and Kuroo suppressed a groan. 

Kenma slid both hands down between them, grabbing the hem of Kuroo’s shirt and pulling it up and up, exposing the tan expanse of his abdomen and chest. Kuroo obligingly lifted his arms and let Kenma pull off his shirt and toss it to the floor. The android looked him over as if he was the most delicious food he had ever seen, tiny pink tongue darting out to run over his lower lip. Without saying another word, Kenma leaned down and took one pebbled nipple into his mouth, laving his tongue over and around it. Slim fingers plucked the other nipple before Kenma switched sides to give similar attention. 

Kuroo placed his hands on Kenma’s hips and squeezed. This was happening. This was _definitely_ happening. He bit his lip against a pleasured moan and ran one hand up under the back of Kenma’s shirt, fingertips skimming across the knobs of his spine. Kenma’s skin was smooth and radiating heat. Kuroo pressed his hand flat, rubbing smooth circles over Kenma’s lower back and allowing himself the luxury of just touching. He tried valiantly to ignore the throbbing discomfort his jeans were creating as Kenma licked over his chest and then ran his tongue up the side of Kuroo’s neck. 

“ _God_ , Kenma…” he moaned when Kenma lightly took Kuroo’s earlobe between his teeth. Kenma’s tongue followed soon after, tracing the path his finger had taken earlier. Abandoning his ear, Kenma moved back to his neck, leaving a trail of nips and sucks down his skin. 

Kenma slid a hand between them, skirting down his abdomen, chasing the thin trail of hair leading from his bellybutton to the top of his jeans. With one hand, Kenma popped the button of his jeans open and slid down the zipper, revealing the cloth-covered bulge of Kuroo’s cock. The relief of being free from the confines of his jeans was overwhelming, but paled in comparison to the feeling of Kenma’s palm pressing against his length. He jolted before melting into the sensation. 

Abandoning his neck, Kenma leaned in and pressed his lips to Kuroo’s. It started almost chaste, especially considering the way Kenma was starting to work his fingers up and down over Kuroo’s boxer briefs, but Kuroo didn’t let it stay that way. Fisting a hand in Kenma’s hair, he tilted his head to slot their lips firmly together, then traced his tongue across the seam of Kenma’s lips. He opened them willingly, letting Kuroo dip inside. Tongue brushed tongue, back and forth, first in Kenma’s mouth and then in Kuroo’s. It was hot and slippery and everything Kuroo wanted. The hand he had been keeping on Kenma’s lower back slipped down to cup one half of his ass, squeezing the muscle there gently. Kenma gasped into his mouth and the sound went straight to his cock.

His cock, which Kenma was now working out of its cloth prison. Kenma tugged at the elastic of his boxer briefs until his cock sprang free, flushed and already sticky with precum at the tip. Pulling away from the kiss for a moment, Kenma locked eyes with Kuroo as he lifted a hand to his mouth and extended his tongue, licking a long stripe across his palm. The sight was so erotic that Kuroo had to force himself to look away before he embarrassed himself by coming too quickly.

Kenma slipped his wet palm over Kuroo’s cock, grasping lightly and stroking from base to tip. He let his thumb run across the slit, spreading precum, as he leaned back in for another searing kiss. Before long they were making out in earnest, heated breaths passing from mouth to mouth as Kenma jerked Kuroo off between them. 

“Kenma,” Kuroo moaned low, tilting his head back as he felt heat coil low in his belly. He was close, so close—

\--And then he woke up, shirt hitched up around his chest, boxer briefs shoved down to his mid-thighs, and hand wrapped around his leaking cock. 

It took him a few moments to parse together reality versus the dream he had been damn well enjoying. When he finally realized that yes, Kenma jerking him off had been a (delicious) dream and yes, his subconscious did hate him and _yes_ , he desperately wanted all that and more, he threw a pillow over his face and whined into it. A part of him felt guilty for throwing Kenma, sweet Kenma with his sarcastic words and his sweet voice and his delicate hands, into such a sordid fantasy. The other part of him, the very _awake_ part of him, realized that he was half naked in bed with a hard-on that wasn’t going to quit and that the easiest way would be to just suck it up, take care of things, and pretend he _didn’t_ use the thought of Kenma to get himself off. 

A cold shower would have worked, but then he thought about Kenma’s machine hot mouth on him and his cock jumped, begging for attention.

Really, he didn’t have a lot of options.

Shoving aside his (miniscule, really) guilt, he wrapped a hand around himself again and gave a few experimental strokes. His calloused palm was nothing like Kenma’s smooth skin, but it would have to do. He closed his eyes, running through the specifics of his dream again. Continuing to stroke, he plucked at one nipple just like dream Kenma had done, ran his hand over his abdomen. He tilted his head back, pressed into the pillow, and rubbed his thumb over the slit of his cock. 

He closed his eyes and let his hand drift lazily up and down over himself. Images of Kenma rose unbidden to his mind—Kenma on his lap, rubbing against him. Kenma running teeth over his ear. And then, possibly his favorite, Kenma on his knees in front of him, looking up at him with a hungry expression. Then suddenly it wasn’t his hand on himself. It was Kenma’s mouth, hot like he had been drinking coffee, wet tongue running up the underside of his flushed cock. Thin lips squeezed around the head of his cock, sucking hard while he swirled his tongue along the ridge. Kuroo groaned low as Kenma’s movements got faster, messier, more intense. The slurping noises were obscene and he soaked them in as Kenma bounced his head up and down, taking as much of Kuroo in as he could. 

“Oh fuck, Kenma, _fuck,_ ” he moaned. In his fantasy, he reached out to bury his fingers in Kenma’s hair, never pulling him closer but letting his hand ground him. The gesture was loving, but needy. Kenma never once looked away, bright gold eyes locked on Kuroo’s as he sucked up and down his cock. Kuroo could feel the heat coiled tight low in his belly, the wave of his release only moments away. 

“Kenma, I—“ he managed, and Kenma pulled away with a slick popping sound. 

“Come in my mouth, Kuro,” Kenma said, and those dirty words in Kenma’s sonorous voice almost made him come then and there. 

Kenma waited on his knees, mouth open and poised beneath Kuroo’s leaking cock. Kuroo took himself in hand and stroked furiously, unable to look away from the vision beneath him. He rose and rose and rose and then he was there, thick shots of cum streaking across Kenma’s extended tongue, his chin, even one stripe across his cheek. 

Kenma closed his mouth and smiled, dirty little angel. “Mm, Kuro,” he said.

Kuroo opened his eyes at last as he came down from the high, looking down at the mess of come across his stomach. Grimacing, he slipped off his shirt and used it to wipe himself clean.

“Well _that_ was something,” he muttered guiltily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, have you seen anything from the Haikyuu!! stage play? If so, you should know that [this](http://aazeris.tumblr.com/post/153846377504/engekihaikyuu-osaka-closing-night) is how I will envision Kuroo forever. Which makes it slightly awkward to write such scenes as this (not that it will ever stop me). Sorry, Shouri. 
> 
> Don't judge Kuroo too harshly. He's only human, after all.
> 
> Kuroo calling Kenma kitten is one of my favorite things and I will abuse it constantly in future chapters. I apologize in advance.
> 
> You may have noticed that there is now a chapter count. That's because I finished editing! I am still doing a few tweaks so my planned update schedule is Monday and Friday. 
> 
> Thank you for the feedback you are leaving! I hope you continue to do so and continue to enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> [aazeris.tumblr.com](http://aazeris.tumblr.com)


	4. Arcades and Apple Pie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first date! Featuring arcades and pie and no small amount of fluff.

Kuroo  
 ** _What did you and Akaashi do on your first date?_**

Bokuto  
 ** _dude it was awesome!!!! we went to the movies & then we went & played volleyball!!! did u know he’s a setter? and he loves action movies!! akaashi is the best_**

Kuroo  
 ** _Put your heart eyes away for a minute and help me. Kenma finally agreed to go on a date and it has to be the best date he’s ever dreamed about_**

Boktuo  
 ** _ohohoho! does he like volleyball?? we can have a double date!!! :D :D_**

Kuroo  
 ** _Bro I love you but you are not helping me right now_**

Bokuto  
 ** _uhhh i dunno he likes games right? u could do that arcade over in green light. the new one w/ all the holo games_**

Kuroo  
 ** _I take it back you are the best_**

Bokuto  
 ** _ya i know :D_**

\---

Kuroo was getting nervous. It was less than two hours until The Date and his heart was doing weird fluttery palpitations. He told himself it was ridiculous, and really it was. Kenma would never have agreed to go on the date if he didn’t want to, but Kuroo wanted it to be an _awesome_ date. The best date ever. The date of all dates that would convince Kenma that Kuroo was The One and then they would live happily ever after.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror and stuck his tongue out at himself. The effect calmed him down a bit.

He had already showered and done the best he could do with his hair. He wondered if Kenma found his hair charming or a mess. Admittedly, it could be a bit of both. He had dressed with particular care—casual, because they were going to an arcade, but more upscale than his tattered blue jeans and flannel. Looking himself over in the mirror, he could admit he looked pretty good. Would Kenma think so? He hoped so. He wasn’t sure how attraction worked with Kenma. Obviously he had been attracted enough to kiss him on the dance floor, and he was open to going on a date, but sometimes he could be kind of hard to read. 

Kuroo idly wondered if they should go to dinner somewhere after the arcade. Did Kenma eat? He knew androids _could_ , but he also knew it was a personal choice and not a necessity. At least he knew the arcade had been a good choice. Kenma had sounded the closest Kuroo had ever heard him come to excited when he called and made the suggestion. 

One and a half hours. That meant a full hour until he had to leave, and he was crawling out of his skin. Should he eat ahead of time just in case Kenma didn’t want to? But the arcade had snacks, right? 

“You’ve got to chill,” he said to his reflection. 

In the end he found himself doing some android research in the hour he had left. Kenma was never shy about answering questions, always responding in his matter of fact way. Kuroo had been pretty forthright about the fact that Kenma was the first android he had really gotten to know, and Kenma never made him feel stupid about it. But even so, he hated that he kept having to ask. 

When 1:30 finally rolled around, he gave himself another once-over in the mirror, threw himself a thumbs up for good luck, and left the apartment with a spring in his step. All nerves aside, he was psyched that Kenma had said yes. Maybe the crush Kuroo had been carefully nurturing wasn’t as one-sided as he had originally thought. 

On his way to the monorail station, he heard a commotion on the street ahead. Curious, he turned a corner to find a small mob of protesters outside one of the government buildings. He could pick out both humans and androids from his distance, and he let his eyes roam over the signs. 

_Buying land is not a crime!_

_Androids deserve rights too!_

_Let robots in Patrician!_

They weren’t particularly catchy, but they got the point across. Kuroo frowned. It felt like he was seeing more and more protests outside this building lately and, more worryingly, he saw more robophobe counter-protesters mobbing beside them. This scenario was no different; looking past the probot signs, he saw a throng of robophobes with their own signs. 

_Robots aren’t human!_

_Keep the machines out of Patrician!_

They were shouting, and the probots were shouting right back. Kuroo had a feeling it would be a matter of time before the authorities got involved, especially given their location. He could only hope things wouldn’t get out of hand, or, worse, violent. 

_Can’t think about it today_ , Kuroo thought. _I’ve got a hot date to get to._

Kuroo and Kenma had agreed to meet at the Green Light District monorail stop closest to the arcade. Kuroo had tried to get Kenma to let him pick him up at home; he wasn’t scared of the Metal District and a big part of him was damn curious to see what Kenma’s apartment looked like. He had never been in the Metal District as it was and he wasn’t sure if androids needed, and had, different living arrangements than humans did. Kenma had shrugged off the suggestion, however, saying that he was old enough to travel without an escort and that besides, he “wasn’t ready to subject anybody to Lev.” Lev, Kuroo had found out, was the floundering android who had taken over the bar during Kenma’s little foray onto the dance floor. Kuroo hadn’t had a chance to talk to him directly, but if one listened to Kenma, he was a walking disaster.

Kuroo got to the station a good ten minutes before their agreed-upon time. He didn’t expect Kenma to be there, but sure enough, sitting on a bench away from the worst of the crowds sat the android, fingers dancing over the holographic panel of his coil. Kuroo grinned. Maybe he wasn’t the only anxious one.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he said as he strolled over. Kenma swiped pause on the game he was playing and glanced up with an unreadable expression. Kuroo wasn’t lying: Kenma looked even more adorable in his everyday clothes than the leather ones he wore for work. His red hoodie was securely in place—Kenma wore it because it made him more comfortable out with people, he had once explained—and he wore plain blue jeans instead of the usual diaphanous clothes that Kuroo saw most robots in. 

Kenma put the game away and stood. “Hello,” he said quietly, eyes flitting to the side after giving Kuroo a once-over. Was he actually being shy? Kuroo thought his heart was going to pop open. 

Kuroo paused for a moment, wondering. Kenma didn’t strike him as the physical type, that moment on the dance floor aside, but he just looked so damn huggable. Would that be out of line? It was a date, but it was the beginning of the date. Was it weird to hug him? Would it be unwelcome? Kuroo didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but…

Fuck it.

Without giving himself another minute to stew it over, Kuroo took the few steps forward necessary to put himself in Kenma’s space and swept him into a warm hug. Kenma stiffened immediately in his grasp. 

“What are you doing?”

_Abort, abort_. Kuroo’s body didn’t listen. He was too caught up in the soft smell of Kenma’s hair and the heat radiating off his body.

“Hugging you. I thought it was kind of obvious.”

Kenma continued to stand motionless, making no effort to hug Kuroo back as he stood with his hands at his sides. He did, however, relax just a fraction in Kuroo’s arms. “Why?” he asked softly.

Kuroo let go and took a step back. He couldn’t help his small, honest smile. “I’m happy to see you, is all.”

Turning his head to the side, Kenma tried, and failed, to cover the blush spreading over his cheeks with his hair. “Embarrassing,” he mumbled. 

“You’re right,” Kuroo said, slinging a jovial arm around Kenma’s shoulders and starting to walk to the monorail’s exit. “But since I’m being embarrassing anyway, I should really ratchet it up, right? Next time I’ll kiss you right in the middle of the station. Give everyone a really good show.”

Kenma shrugged his arm off his shoulder and shook his head. “You don’t give up, do you?”

“Never!”

The walk to the arcade was quick and mostly quiet. Kuroo gave Kenma his space, despite the overwhelming desire he was fighting to take Kenma’s hand in his and squeeze. It was getting damn hard to control himself, but he wouldn’t ruin things before they really began. As much as he wanted to touch Kenma constantly, he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Well, maybe he could make him a little uncomfortable by hugging him in the middle of the damn monorail station, but really, that was a one-time slip-up. Promise.

When they arrived at the arcade, they paused for a moment and looked up at the building. It was three stories high, the front solid plate glass to show the glowing machines and people within. A decorative neon sign stood over the double plate glass doors of the entrance.

“Have you been here before?” Kuroo asked. He glanced over and almost laughed. Kenma was nearly vibrating with excitement, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie as he bounced almost imperceptibly on the balls of his feet. 

“No, but I’ve been wanting to.”

_Bless you, Bo_ , Kuroo thought thankfully. Such a good idea. 

“Well, no time like the present. After you.” Kuroo swung the door open and gestured for Kenma to go inside.

Inside was loud, a cacophony of electronic beeps and boops and people cheering and swearing at each other. The place was crowded, but not uncomfortably so. Machines lined the walls, and in the center of the room was a massive escalator leading up and down to the second floor. It was a little dizzying, and Kuroo wasn’t sure where to start.

Judging from the way he was wildly looking around, neither did Kenma. He seemed to be going into gaming addict sensory overload. Kuroo laughed, his own minor discomfort forgotten, as he tugged at one of Kenma’s sleeves. “Let’s look around and see what they’ve got, yeah?”

They started with a canvas of the first floor, which seemed mostly devoted to strategy and racing games. An ancient Pac-man machine was in one corner, mobbed by teenagers. Kuroo couldn’t help but chuckle. Keeping with the old school theme on that side of the room were three different shooters with plastic guns: zombies, hunting, and aliens. There was a panel of virtual chess that had a surprisingly big crowd watching the two players. Off to another side was a table with a holographic overlay displaying a series of ships that were being battled over by the players. 

Kenma looked slightly bored as he surveyed the first floor’s selection. “Where are the fighting games?”

Kuroo glanced around and saw none nearby. “Second floor, maybe? Let’s go check it out.”

They stepped onto the escalator and headed to the second floor. There were dizzying neon swirls along the handrail, and Kuroo had to look away to keep vertigo at bay. He focused on Kenma instead—a much better use of his time, he judged.

Kenma was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth the higher they went. He could already see a handful of fighting games from their vantage point on the escalator. He bounced a little bit where he stood, and Kuroo smiled. “You like fighting games the most?”

“In an arcade,” Kenma replied. “At home I like RPGs. I like the stories.”

They stepped off the escalator and were immediately greeted by an enormous display with two pads on the floor in front of it. Two people were competing, the figures onscreen matching the competitors’ movements. A small group of people were standing around them cheering. Blue seemed more popular over green, and blue was definitely kicking green’s ass. 

“I want to try that one,” Kenma said. “But let’s look around first.” 

They toured the second floor, which was comprised almost entirely of fighting games. They had everything from ancient joystick consoles to high-tech holographic displays available, and most of them had players on them already. One console stood empty, and Kenma led them to it. 

_Evil AI Overlords_ , read the holographic display hovering in the air over the screen. 

“You want to play _this_?” Kuroo asked in disbelief. “Isn’t it kind of… I don’t know. Cannibalistic?”

Kenma stared blankly at him. “It’s just a game, Kuro.”

“…Right.”

Stepping up to the console, Kenma swiped his coil against the payment display until it gave a little beep of acknowledgement. Kenma glanced over. “Are you going to play?”

Kuroo grinned. “I’d like to watch my competition first, unless you have stage fright.”

Kenma shrugged, apparently unbothered by the prospect. He placed his hands hovering over the holograph controls and the screen popped into life. A rugged cartoon hero flexed his way onto the screen, waving his gun threateningly in the air as a spacecraft descended into the field of view. The spacecraft emitted a series of intimidating beeps before landing off-screen. Then the game began, a wave of AIs swarming in from the side. Our Hero’s job was to annihilate them before they got close enough to do damage. Kuroo briefly wondered why they would show up unarmed before his attention was diverted by Kenma’s playing. His hands swiped over the controls at almost superhuman—or super-robot—speed, Our Hero shooting unerringly and achieving headshot after headshot. The AIs fell to the ground one by one and disappeared in a shower of sparks. As the game progressed, the waves got faster and more powerful, but Kenma was unperturbed. He got through waves five and six, and by wave seven Kuroo’s head was spinning with how fast Kenma was moving to keep up his perfect score. Wave eight. Wave nine. No AI had gotten within a couple of inches of the hero. The screen flashed with a neon _Wave Complete_ and wave ten, the boss battle, began. The boss was an enormous robot made up of other robots that detached and reattached as the battle progressed. The objective was to destroy the individual components before the big boss could go down. 

As expected, Kenma dispatched the boss with no problems. The robot exploded in a shower of multicolored sparks and the hero raised both arms in the air in victory as You Win! flashed across the screen. The console asked for initials and Kenma entered KK before stepping back. As the high scores scrolled by, it was no surprise that KK was at the top of the list.

“And you wanted me to play against you?” Kuroo laughed as they stepped away and continued their circuit around the room.

Kenma shrugged. “It would have been interesting. You never said if you are good at games.”

“I’m good, but I’m not that kind of good. I have to ask…” Kuroo trailed off, not sure how to politely word his question.

“It’s not because I’m an android,” Kenma interrupted. “I just play a lot of games.” He didn’t sound offended, but…

“Sorry,” Kuroo said sheepishly. “I guess I’m kind of an asshole, huh?”

“You’re no different than most people,” was the bland response. Kuroo wasn’t sure if that was an affirmative or not.

They played a handful of other games, Kuroo electing to watch as Kenma blew every high score out of the water. Kuroo thought this had to be boring for him, since none of the games seemed to present any kind of challenge, but Kenma seemed to be enjoying himself judging from the very small triumphant smiles he couldn’t hide every time he input his initials. 

As they finished their circuit around the room, they ended up back at the big display they had first seen when coming up the escalator. The current contestants seemed to be finishing up; the score was nine to seven in a game that went up to ten points.

“You’re going to play this one, right?” Kenma asked.

“Are you sure you want me to? I mean, you’ve seen me in a fight. You know I’m pretty good, and you—“ He cut himself off, eyes going wide as he realized what a tremendous dick he was being.

Kenma’s eyes flashed with something like hurt before his mouth tightened in a look of pure determination. “You have to play it.”

“Your wish, my command,” Kuroo smiled.

They waited patiently for the current game to finish up, and the crowd dispersed after blue won a solid victory with a three-point lead over green. Kuroo and Kenma stepped up onto the floor pads and swiped their coils over the payment scanner. The pads lit up as the blue and green figures materialized onscreen. 

“I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re cute,” Kuroo smirked.

Kenma pursed his lips and elected not to reply.

A countdown timer began on the screen and Kuroo dropped into a fighting stance. From the corner of his eye, he saw Kenma do the same. 

3\. 2. 1. Fight!

Kenma immediately ducked back with his arms raised in front of his face, purely defensive. Kuroo bounced on the balls of his feet, evaluating. Any straight up offense would be easily blocked, but… He swiped out with his foot and blue smacked green’s knee, dropping ¼ of his HP. Kenma hissed. Bolstered by the victory of a first hit, Kuroo began a systematic, thoughtful wave of attacks. Kenma did very little attacking of his own, but he was damn good at defense. He was lithe and quick on his feet, and every time Kuroo swung, Kenma darted out of the way.

Except when he didn’t. Blue hit green with a solid uppercut to the jaw that dropped him to 1/3 HP. He heard Kenma swear and grinned. 

Kuroo was only peripherally aware of the crowd gathering around them. They were putting on a damn good show, Kuroo’s brute strength versus Kenma’s feline grace making the current match run into overtime. Ultimately Kenma got a hit to the stomach in, then a kick to the knee before Kuroo countered with a jab to the face. First point, Kuroo.

The crowd cheered as blue and green reset to full HP. 

“Care to make this interesting, kitten?” Kuroo asked in the lull between matches. Kenma looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “If I win, you have to kiss me in front of all these people. A real kiss, too. You can’t half-ass it.”

He really thought Kenma would reject him, had offered it up as a half-serious joke even, but he saw the thoughtful look on Kenma’s face and his heart jumped. “Fine,” Kenma said after a moment. “But if I win, you have to buy me apple pie from the café down the street.”

Kuroo’s surprised look must have been comical, but Kenma hid his amusement. “Done. Yes! Absolutely!”

Well, if his pride hadn’t been enough of a reason to win before, Kuroo damn sure had a reason to win now.

The next match started and Kenma focused more on offense than he had before, taking Kuroo’s HP down to half before he could even really get started. Kuroo responded in kind, slamming forward with brutal attacks that wore down Kenma’s defenses. But it wasn’t enough; Kenma spun in a graceful roundhouse kick that knocked blue to the ground, defeated. Second point, Kenma.

“Alright, you’ve got my attention,” Kuroo said. “Time to put my game face on.”

It was a tough battle. Kuroo took the third and fourth points, while Kenma took the fifth. They battled back and forth until they reached the final match, the score an even nine to nine. 

Kuroo dropped into his fighting stance. His heart was thumping with adrenaline. He knew he could do this. Kenma had skills and agility, Kuroo would give him that, but he was also predictable, and this many matches in, Kuroo had a decent idea of how things would go. The only trick now was to change up his routine to take the android off-balance. 

He started slow, focusing on defense instead of offense. He knew that Kenma was patient, but he also knew Kenma was competitive. His patience wasn’t everlasting, and when he darted in for a hit Kuroo dropped to his knees and shot out one fist, slamming into green’s stomach past the arch of his arms. He followed up with a quick shot of his leg, blue sweeping green from his feet. Half HP. Kenma looked over at Kuroo with wide eyes and got a playful smirk in response. 

Kenma fell back into a primarily defensive formation, which Kuroo expected. He teased at Kenma’s defenses with half-hearted jabs and smacks, nothing landing solidly. Suddenly Kenma darted low, aiming for Kuroo’s knees, but Kuroo countered by flat-out jumping in the air, blue sailing over green’s swinging arm, and landing an elbow to green’s head. ¼ HP.

It would only take one more hit for Kuroo to win, and he could taste victory. They skirmished back and forth, Kenma whittling him down to half HP, before Kuroo landed a solid roundhouse kick that knocked green to the ground where he exploded in a shower of pixels. 

_Blue Wins_ , the screen cheerfully announced. The crowd around them cheered. 

They stepped off the pads and faced each other. The surrounding crowd did not disperse immediately, which made Kenma frown as he remembered his promise.

Kuroo spread his arms wide. “Well?” he grinned.

Kenma took the two steps needed forward and stood on his tiptoes, pressing his lips to Kuroo’s. His mouth was warm and soft, and even though Kuroo had logically been expecting it, he wasn’t prepared when it happened. Kenma kept his lips pressed firmly in place for three, five, ten seconds before he pulled away and stepped back again. The crowd around them whooped and hollered, and a smattering of applause sounded. 

Kuroo stared at Kenma with a dazed smile. “Now I really do feel like a winner,” he said. Kenma rolled his eyes in return. “But I’ll tell you what,” he added as he hooked an arm around Kenma’s shoulders and led him to the escalator. It did not escape his notice that Kenma, for once, did not immediately pull away. “I’ll treat you to apple pie anyway. I’m hungry.”

Kenma looked over at him with wide, hopeful eyes. “You will?”

Kuroo laughed and pinched Kenma’s cheek, earning himself a displeased huff. “How can I resist that face?”

The café was only a couple of blocks away from the arcade. Kuroo walked with a spring in his step. He was feeling downright giddy from a combination of his win (hell yeah he could beat someone in a fight, and not just anyone, but a physically enhanced android, booya) and the fact that Kenma had actually held up his end of the bet (had he really kissed him in front of all those people without blinking an eye? Amazing). And while the kiss had been chaste and sweet (no tongue this time, but there was always next time), it had still been a kiss with Kenma. Kuroo could get used to that.

Small and sitting on a corner, the café had a few outdoor tables and chairs and a cheerful sign overhead that sported the name and a piece of glowing pie. Kuroo and Kenma stepped inside and were immediately assaulted with the delicious smell of cooked pastries and coffee. A glass display case ran along one wall and a cheerfully smiling, very tiny blonde woman was behind the counter. Her brightly colored nametag indicated that her name was Yachi.

“Hello! Can I help you?” she chirped. 

Kuroo walked down the case, perusing the display. Everything looked damn good. Kenma was already requesting an apple pie as he stood in front of the woman. Eventually the chocolate scone’s siren call was too loud to resist and Kuroo stepped next to Kenma and ordered. “I’ll take one of the chocolate scones and a black coffee. Kenma, do you want anything to drink?”

Kenma shook his head.

After a brief scuffle—“you don’t have to pay for me,” “but I’m a _gentleman_ , Kenma”—Kuroo had paid and they went to sit at one of the tables by the plate glass windows. Kenma gazed out the window at passersby, and Kuroo gazed at Kenma. They were silent, but it was a comfortable kind of silence that Kuroo didn’t feel the need to fill. He was happy to just be.

It was only a few minutes before Yachi walked over with a little tray. She deposited their two plates and Kuroo’s coffee and then backed away after telling them to call her if they needed anything.

“You know, I actually did research into whether androids eat or not,” Kuroo said after taking a sip of coffee. “Just so I would know whether to offer. Is that weird?”

Kenma looked at him with an unreadable expression. “I could have told you.”

“I hate treating you like an encyclopedia of ‘all the shit Kuroo doesn’t know about androids.’” 

“You don’t treat it like a bad thing.” Kenma slid his fork into his pie and ate a piece. “I’m not sure you know how refreshing that is.”

Kuroo halted with a piece of scone halfway to his mouth. “People do that?”

“There’s a fine line between being curious about physiological and cultural differences and treating someone like they belong in a zoo. I deal with it a lot at work.”

Kuroo frowned. “You’ll tell me if I ever cross that line, right? I don’t want to be one of those jackasses.”

“I would tell you,” Kenma said, and Kuroo believed him.

“So when do I get to see your apartment and meet the infamous Lev face-to-face?”

Kenma made a face like he had licked the bottom of a shoe. “You can meet Lev at work if you’re that desperate to be insulted by a giant puppy who doesn’t know he’s being insulting.”

Kuroo laughed. “He can’t be that bad.”

“He is.”

“Then why do you live with him?”

“Apartments are expensive,” Kenma said with the same disgusted expression. “Even in Junktown.”

“Hey.” Kuroo frowned, not liking the derisive tone of Kenma’s voice. “Don’t call it that. I would never call it that. You know that, right?”

Kenma hummed. Kuroo wasn’t sure if it was assent.

“Just so we’re being clear,” Kuroo said, gesturing with the hand holding his fork. “I want to see your apartment, but not because it’s an android’s apartment in the Metal District. I thought we just established I’m not an asshole like that. I want to see it because it’s _your_ apartment, and I want to get to know _you_.” He paused, frowning again. “I had hoped that much was kind of obvious.”

Kenma stabbed at his pie in silence for a moment before he sighed. “It is. I’m sorry. It’s… kind of a sore subject. I know you’re not… like that. I would never have agreed to come out with you if I didn’t. I just… you’re confusing.”

Kuroo blinked. “Confusing?”

“You’re so… open about everything. Everything you’re thinking, everything you want. But you’re not a dick about it. Usually.” Kenma almost smiled. “It’s weird.” He shoved a piece of pie into his mouth to avoid having to say more, but Kuroo didn’t miss the blush spreading over his cheeks. 

“It’s weird, but I think you like it,” Kuroo said with a smile. Some of the heavy tension over their table dissipated. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Kenma looked at him and deliberately shoved his mouth full of pie again. Kuroo laughed.

“I’ve always been like that,” Kuroo said after a moment. “I don’t see the point in being unclear about what you like and what you don’t like. It helps avoid confusion. I mean, I don’t think I reach Bokuto levels of blatant honesty. I do have _some_ filter.”

“Yes,” Kenma agreed, deadpan. “You are not as forthright as Bokuto.”

“He’s a good guy,” Kuroo laughed. “I know he kind of put you off with telling you I loved you and all, but you’d like him if you got to know him. Probably.”

“Keiji likes him. I suppose that counts for something.”

“What, and the fact he’s my best friend doesn’t?” Kuroo pressed a hand to his heart. “I’m wounded!”

Kenma laughed quietly. “It does. A little bit.”

Kuroo took a deep breath. His heart was pinging around the way it tended to do whenever Kenma laughed. “You know, in the spirit of open honesty and talking about what I like…” He trailed off, suddenly nervous. Was he pushing too hard? Aw hell. “I really like you, Kenma. I know there’s still a lot I have to learn about you, but we’ve known each other for just over two months now and I just. Well, like you. That’s really all there is.”

Kenma stared at him like he had sprouted a second head. His gold eyes were wide and Kuroo couldn’t quite figure out why; he may just be saying it out loud for the first time, but this was hardly new and shocking information. The blush on Kenma’s cheeks darkened and he ducked his head to the side, letting his hair fall over his face. 

“Oh come on, that wasn’t a Bokuto-style love confession. I’m just being honest, okay? I don’t expect anything from you or anything. I just wanted to tell you.”

Fiddling with his fork, Kenma continued to look away. “Too,” he mumbled.

“Huh?”

“…You too,” Kenma said, a little louder. He still refused to meet Kuroo’s eyes. 

If fireworks had gone off and a parade complete with marching band had sauntered by, Kuroo wouldn’t have noticed. His eyes were locked on that curtain of gold and black hair hiding a face he desperately wanted to look at. His stomach had erupted in butterflies; this seemed way too good to be true. “Kenma,” he said.

Kenma glanced over at him, still hiding most of his face. “What?”

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

This startled a laugh out of Kenma, and he pressed a hand to his lips to muffle the laughter. Kuroo grinned impossibly wide. 

Their conversation turned lighter after that, and Kuroo nursed his coffee while they chatted about everything from video games (a given) to Kuroo’s job at the bureau. Although Kenma was quiet by nature, their conversation wasn’t stilted like some might have expected it to be. It was easy, comfortable. It got late and the sky darkened. One by one, the streetlamps outside lit up.

“I should go,” Kenma said during a lull in their conversation. “It’s getting late and I still have a half hour monorail ride.”

“Yeah.” Kuroo gathered up their plates and his coffee cup and brought them to the counter, where Yachi took them with a bright smile of thanks. “I’ll walk you to the station?” he said as he walked back over to the table. Kenma nodded.

They pushed through the door and out into the open air. The streets were starting to fill up with people coming off work and heading to their favorite haunts. Kenma and Kuroo walked closely next to each other, their shoulders occasionally brushing. Kuroo hesitated, thought it over, talked himself out of it, and then decided he didn’t have anything to lose and clasped Kenma’s palm in his own. Kenma looked over at him with surprise but did not pull away. 

“Okay?” Kuroo asked quietly.

Kenma thought for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” he agreed.

Victory! Kuroo laced their fingers together and held tight while they walked. Kenma’s hand was warm and comforting despite the way it made Kuroo’s heart pound in his chest. He found the walk to the monorail station far too short indeed, but they were soon there, swiping their coils against the turnstiles and pushing their way onto the platform. 

“This was… nice,” Kenma said, turning to face Kuroo while still holding his hand. The blush was high on his cheekbones but he forced himself to keep Kuroo’s gaze. 

Kuroo smiled, warm and open. “It was great,” he agreed. “Definitely something we should do more of. Preferably really soon. Is tomorrow too soon? It is, right?” 

Kenma chuckled softly. He didn’t respond—at least, not verbally. Instead he grabbed Kuroo’s free hand, using their hands to tug him closer. For a moment they stood, close enough to press together with only a step more, Kuroo lost in the gold of Kenma’s eyes as he looked down at him. 

“This is the part where you kiss me,” Kenma said quietly.

Kuroo didn’t need any additional prompting. He slowly disentangled their fingers and slid his arms around Kenma’s waist, pulling him close. Kenma tilted his head up and Kuroo swooped down to capture his lips in a warm kiss. Kenma reached up to wrap his arms around Kuroo’s shoulders, holding him tight as their lips slid together in a comfortable embrace. This kiss was sweet, unhurried, nothing like their first kiss which was hot with the rhythm of thumping music and the symphony of a first kiss. This was a soft exchange, a promise of more to come. 

An electronic voice announced the imminent arrival of Kenma’s train. They pulled apart, slow and hesitant, but Kuroo held tight to Kenma’s waist until the train pulled up.

“Tell me we’ll do this again,” Kuroo murmured.

“We will.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. I have to go. There’s my train.”

Kuroo leaned down for another quick peck before he let go and stepped back. He couldn’t fight the goofy grin on his lips. “Have a good night, kitten.”

Kenma blushed—he always did whenever Kuroo used that pet name—and rolled his eyes. In another moment he was on the train, and Kuroo watched him pull away with joy in his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies to Bioware for outright stealing [Castle Arcade](http://masseffect.wikia.com/wiki/Castle_Arcade) from the Citadel DLC of Mass Effect 3 (with a few minor changes). Kuroo and Kenma are way better at that fighting game than I am.
> 
> Thank you for your continued support! I hope you enjoyed this fluffy nonsense.
> 
> [aazeris.tumblr.com](http://aazeris.tumblr.com)


	5. Suga & Co.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo meets an unexpected person at Nekoma and finds out about a new wave of probot activism.

They moved slow. One date turned into two, then three, then a handful. Kuroo still came to see Kenma at Nekoma on Fridays. He slowly got to know the other members of staff: Taketora who guarded the doors like a bulldog, Lev who was every bit as innocently insulting yet genuinely enthusiastic as Kenma had warned, Yaku who was a very short, rather angry assistant manager and had seemed to take special exception to Lev (when he wasn’t staring at him across a crowded room like something out of a romantic comedy). He became a permanent fixture that everyone expected to be warming a seat at the bar. Sometimes he would dance when the mood struck him. Sometimes Kenma would join him when he was on break. Sometimes Kuroo could even coax a kiss out of him, though they tried to keep that to a minimum since it was Kenma’s place of employment and all.

The day Kuroo stepped onto the dance floor and accidentally bumped into Suga, who was grinding against a tall, short-haired man in an _entirely_ inappropriate way, was a bit surreal.

“Suga?” he asked incredulously. For his part, Suga looked just as shell-shocked, stepping away from the man he’d been grinding on like he had been electrocuted. 

“Kuroo!” Suga exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m kind of a regular.” Kuroo glanced between the two men, a slow smirk crawling up one side of his face. “I didn’t peg you for the nightclub type. Who’s your friend?”

Said friend looked as amused by this turn of events as Kuroo felt as Suga grabbed his wrist and pulled him off the dance floor. Kuroo followed. Once they were standing in a less crowded area, Suga turned to him. “Ah. Yes. This is Daichi.”

“Pleasure,” Kuroo grinned, extending a hand to shake. 

Daichi’s handshake was firm, as expected. “Nice to meet you. You work with Suga, right?”

“Oohh, Suga, you talk about me? I’m flattered.”

Suga laughed, some of his embarrassment fading away. He slapped Kuroo’s shoulder playfully. “Don’t get the wrong idea. Everyone’s ridiculousness ends up in my stories about work at some point or another. Are you here alone?”

Kuroo glanced over at the bar where Kenma was conspicuously absent. Probably in the back, Kuroo guessed. “In a manner of speaking.”

“We’re here with some friends,” Suga said. “I think you would like them, if you care to join us.” 

“Kuro? Is everything okay?” asked a soft voice behind him. 

Kuroo turned to see Kenma looking between the three of them. He burst into a bright grin. “You’re here! Perfect timing, as always, kitten.” Turning his attention back to Suga as Kenma stepped up next to him, he said, “This is Suga from work and his—uh, Daichi.” 

“Hi,” said Kenma.

Suga smiled brightly and shook Kenma’s hand. Daichi soon followed suit, looking mightily amused by Kuroo’s introduction. “Your Daichi, huh?” he murmured to Suga, who flushed pink. 

“And this is Kenma. He’s my—“

Uh oh. What was Kenma exactly? They were dating, sure. You didn’t go on seven dates and not consider yourself dating. But they had never quite defined a label, and Kuroo found himself stumbling over it. Could he call him his boyfriend? Was that safe to say? Did he stick with friend and play it safe? But that felt deceptive.

While he struggled, Kenma rolled his eyes. “I’m his boyfriend. Nice to meet you.”

Well then.

“So _this_ is the mythical Kenma I’ve been hearing so much about!” Suga exclaimed with a sunny smile. “It really is nice to meet you. I’ve never seen Kuroo as happy as he’s been the past couple of months. Things must be going well.”

Kenma ducked his head and didn’t respond. 

“Yeah, well, what can I say,” Kuroo said after finally composing himself. Boyfriend. He said it so easily! “It’s not every day someone gets to smooch on an angel whenever he wants.”

“ _Kuro_ ,” Kenma hissed. “You’re so embarrassing.”

“Yes, that is one of our Kuroo’s most endearing traits,” Suga laughed. “I was just going to introduce him to the friends we’re here with. Would you like to join us?”

“I have to get back to work,” Kenma said, gesturing to the bar. “I just—“ he flushed endearingly “—wanted to say hi.” 

“You’re slaying me, kitten,” Kuroo said, slinging an arm around Kenma’s shoulders and pressing a kiss to his temple. “Actually literally slaying me. Where did you learn to be so cute?”

Kenma rolled his eyes again and ducked out from under Kuroo’s arm. “It was nice to meet you,” he said with a small wave, then headed back to the bar.

“He’s adorable,” Suga said approvingly. “I like him already.”

Kuroo watched Kenma go with soft eyes. “Me too,” he said dreamily. 

Suga laughed and hooked his arm with Kuroo’s. “Okay, lovebird, come meet the gang. Unless you’d rather go sit at the bar.” His tone was playful, and Kuroo chuckled. 

“I’m done, I’m done. Lead on.”

Suga, Daichi next to him, led them to the spiral staircase and up the stairs. As they passed by the bar, Kuroo gave Kenma a wave and a wink, loving the slight blush that crossed Kenma’s cheeks. Upstairs, two sets of tables and chairs had been set up next to a booth to accommodate the group. Four chairs were empty. 

“Everyone, this is my coworker, Kuroo. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve invited him to join us.” 

Suga made the appropriate introductions. Hinata was the short one who nearly leapt over the table to shake Kuroo’s hand multiple times before he was scolded by a steely eyed grump named Kageyama (“sit down, dumbass, you’re making yourself look stupid”). Nishinoya was the even shorter one with a bleached lock of hair hanging over his forehead in stark contrast to the rest of the black spikes. He was curled up in the lap of a soft-spoken giant named Asahi, and Kuroo couldn’t help but wonder how _that worked_. Next to him was a close-shaven, over-the-top loud guy named Tanaka. To his left was a blond sporting glasses who said the barest of hellos, Tsukishima, next to a freckled brown-haired guy who had introduced himself as Yamaguchi. Working further around the table, Kuroo was introduced to Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita respectively. 

“I’m never gonna remember all of your names, especially once I get a couple of drinks in me. I hope you won’t be offended,” Kuroo grinned. He slid into a chair next to Suga. “But it’s nice to meet all of you.” 

The group fell into individual conversations again, and Kuroo, Suga, and Daichi comprised their own group. It felt surprisingly comfortable considering he was with a bunch of strangers. 

“We meet here once a month,” Suga said. “Usually on Saturdays.”

“No wonder I’ve never seen you, then,” Kuroo replied. “I usually come on Friday.” He paused, a memory coming to him. “So that’s why you were kind of squirrelly when I asked if you had heard of this place. I thought your answer was kind of strange. Why didn’t you just say you came here?”

“Ah.” Suga glanced to the side. “Well. It’s a little complicated. We’ve never really discussed—but your boyfriend is an android, so you must be—Kuroo, how do you feel about the probot/robophobe disputes?”

Kuroo hesitated. Surely sweet, angelic Suga wasn’t a robophobe, and he highly doubted a group of them would meet in an android-dominated space, but he wondered. Ultimately, he decided honesty was best instead of waffling. “Probot. Definitely.”

Suga exhaled a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. “That’s a bit of a relief,” he said with a smile. “Not that I doubted you. Just, it’s hard to know with people sometimes.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “We’re a group of dedicated probots. We organize a lot of the protests you see outside the administration building in Patrician.”

“You do that?” Kuroo exclaimed, surprised. “Suga! All this time we’ve known each other, and you never told me you were a visionary! I’m almost offended.”

Suga laughed. “Hardly a visionary. We just want basic rights for androids. It’s not complicated, but it’s… well, with the robophobe protests getting bigger and the police starting to get involved, it’s getting more complicated. That’s why we’re here today. We’re trying to figure out how to stage our biggest protest yet. But we want to keep it civilized so the police don’t have any reason to get involved. No one wants to go to jail.”

“Understandable. What’s the plan so far?”

“Well, we’re still spreading the word. It won’t be for another month or so; that’s how long it’ll take us to get organized. I’m talking serious scale here, Kuroo. We’re trying to get a thousand people at least. The more we can get, the more they have to listen to us.” He paused with a sardonic smile. “Or that’s the idea, anyway.”

“We can do it,” Daichi said firmly. “I know we can.”

“Daichi is our fearless leader,” Suga said, squeezing Daichi’s hand. “I’m something like vice captain of the group.”

Kuroo tilted his chair back on its hind legs thoughtfully. “I sure am learning a lot about you tonight, Suga. I can’t believe we’ve been working together for years and I never knew about this side of you.”

“It’s a charged topic. I don’t tend to bring it up at work, of all places.”

Kuroo remained silent for a few more moments, thinking. After awhile, he said, “Coil me the info when you figure it out. I want to come. I might be able to convince Kenma too, but I wouldn’t count on it. I can hear him telling me it’s too much effort already.” 

“Really?” Suga looked surprised. “You want to come?”

“It’s important. And I might be a bit more invested than I used to be.”

They were interrupted by the arrival of Hinata, who bounced on his feet next to them. “I’m going to get more drinks! Who wants to come with me?”

Suga looked at Kuroo slyly, and he laughed. “Any excuse,” he said with a grin. “Come on, little guy. I’ll help.” He stood, ignoring Hinata’s protests of, “I’m not a little guy!”

Downstairs, the bar was crowded enough that both Lev and Kenma were working it. Lev caught sight of them first and walked over. 

“Kuroo! Who is your small companion?” he boomed. 

“I’m not that small!” Hinata huffed. “I’ll have you know I’m almost 163cm!”

Lev leaned down low; he had to to match Hinata’s eye line. “I’m sorry! I—“

“Leave them alone, Lev,” Kenma said from behind him. “Go help those customers.” He gestured down the bar, and with a pout of protest, Lev left them. “Shouyou, hello.”

“Kenma!!” Hinata shouted. “I haven’t seen you all night! I almost finished the game you let me borrow! I’m going to need a new one soon.”

“I’ll bring one the next time you come in,” Kenma said. 

Hinata rattled off their drink orders. “And I’ll have a Kuro special,” Kuroo drawled, leaning on the bar. Hinata may have missed Kenma’s blush, but Kuroo did not. 

“Uwaaah! You have your own drink named after you? That’s so cool!” Hinata gushed. “I want one too! Kenma, can I have a drink named after me?”

Kenma’s blush did not fade. “I’ll try to think of something another time. I will make your drinks now. I’m sure your friends are getting thirsty.” He hurried away, back to them, to begin preparing the drinks. 

“How did you get a drink named after you?” Hinata demanded. “You must come in all the time!”

“I guess I’m just special.” Kuroo couldn’t help his smile as he looked at Kenma’s back. He didn’t fail to notice the tips of Kenma’s ears were pink against the blond hair tucked behind his ears and felt his heart warm. 

At length, Kenma returned with two trays of drinks. Hinata reached for one, and Kenma shooed him away. “I don’t trust you on the stairs,” he said.

“I can be careful!” Hinata protested.

Kenma gave him a flat look and slid one of the trays to Kuroo. The other he took himself, stepping around the opening to the bar and heading for the stairs. They climbed up the stairs and deposited the drinks to a grateful group. Drinks delivered, Kenma moved back to the stairs. Kuroo made to follow him. 

“I can carry two trays down the stairs myself,” Kenma mumbled.

“Yeah, but this way I get to be with you longer. It’s a win-win, really.”

Kenma shook his head and made his way down the stairs, Kuroo close behind. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Kuroo grabbed Kenma’s wrist and ducked them both into the little alcove behind the twisting stairs. Kenma looked up at him, startled. “What--?”

Kuroo leaned down and kissed him, tugging him closer with hands on his hips. Kenma stiffened, then melted into it. The alcove was relatively private, and Kenma must have felt safe because he slid his arms around Kuroo’s neck and buried one hand in the nape of his hair. Kuroo huffed against Kenma’s mouth and ran his tongue across the seam of Kenma’s lips. His lips parted willingly, their tongues moving against each other in smooth, languid strokes. 

The kiss got more heated the longer they went on. Kuroo pressed one hand to the small of Kenma’s back, his fingers stroking over the knobs of his spine. Kenma tangled his fingers in Kuroo’s hair, tugging him ever closer. By the time they pulled away, Kuroo was panting slightly, uncomfortably aware of his growing excitement. Hopefully the thick fabric of his jeans would hide the worst of it. 

Kenma gazed up at him, his lips swollen and pink from the kiss. His eyes were slightly glazed, and he kept his arms wrapped securely around Kuroo’s neck. “You should come over.”

Kuroo blinked. “What?”

“Not today,” Kenma amended, glancing to the side. He couldn’t hide the color on his cheeks. Kuroo suspected he looked much the same, flushed and disheveled. “But… sometime. Sometime soon. Preferably when Lev isn’t home.”

Kuroo did not miss the implications of _that_ statement, given the current state they were in. He felt hot and cold rush through his body one after the other. “I… would like that. I would _really_ like that.”

Kenma bit his lip, and Kuroo leaned in to kiss him again. This time was a chaste peck; Kuroo was still trying to calm himself so he could go back to the group in some semblance of decency. 

“I don’t have food,” Kenma said, a crease forming between his eyebrows. 

Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t have to feed me, kitten. I’m happy enough just being with you. Seeing your place. It’s a little bit like a dream come true, you know.”

“Yes, but—“

“I can bring something if it would make you feel better. You like the ramen shop Bokuto recommended to us, right? I can bring ramen. Would that stop you from worrying?”

“…Yes.”

“How about Sunday? I think I can wait that long.” Kuroo grinned wolfishly. 

“Yes.”

“Good.” Kuroo kissed Kenma’s nose. “I guess I should let you get back to work, shouldn’t I.”

“Your friends are probably wondering where you are.”

“Suga probably knows exactly where I am,” Kuroo laughed. “But you’re right. I’ll go, I promise.” He made no motion to leave, and neither did Kenma. Instead they stood, holding each other close and gazing into each other’s eyes. Kuroo found he just couldn’t pull away. 

“You’re not going.”

“Neither are you.”

“I need to get back to work.”

“Yep.”

“I’m going now.”

“Yep.”

Kenma blushed, leaned up on his tiptoes, and kissed Kuroo gently. He then disentangled himself, clearly hesitant, and bit his bottom lip. “Sunday,” he said.

“Can’t wait, kitten.”

When Kuroo got back to the tables, he was greeted with a wolf whistle from Nishinoya of all people. Kuroo wasn’t sure that someone so firmly ensconced in someone else’s lap really had a place to wolf whistle at someone, but he had a feeling his hair was a bit more mussed than usual. He grinned and sat back down. 

“I like your friends,” he said to Suga, who laughed. 

“They’re a good group. I hope you’ll join us more often.”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one this time. I had to work my baby crows in somewhere. Finally, we're getting into a bit of the plot (though I know everyone loves the fluff too). 
> 
> I have never gotten this much feedback on any fic I've written. I've been just blown away by all the comments and the people taking their time to message me on tumblr. Thank you for your continued support! You have no idea how much it makes my day to hear from you. Enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> [aazeris.tumblr.com](http://aazeris.tumblr.com)


	6. The Mythical Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo makes his way to the Metal District and shenanigans with Kenma ensue. Yeah, you caught me. I meant sexy shenanigans.

Sunday was, of course, only one day away. That did not stop Saturday from absolutely crawling by. Kuroo was reduced to doing chores of all things to try to keep his mind occupied. Chores! His mother was thrilled. He just felt itchy inside and anxious. He had learned, through careful observation, that Kenma’s hang-ups about his apartment were not due to it being in the Metal District, or that Kuroo would be a human wandering through a not all that safe part of town, but because to him, home was safety. It was a cocoon of comfort, a hiding place away from the world that was so busy and loud. Letting Kuroo into his sacred space was much more than inviting him to see his apartment. It was a silent testimony that he trusted Kuroo enough to let him into his sanctuary.

Kuroo well knew what an honor it was. He just hoped he didn’t screw it up somehow.

When Sunday finally, finally rolled around, Kuroo was exhausted. Nerves had kept him up most of the night and he only hoped the faint circles under his eyes wouldn’t give him away too badly. How would he explain himself? _Oh sorry kitten, the thought of being alone with you behind closed doors kept me up all night. No big deal._ Right. _That_ would go over well.

He kept his dress casual but gazed at himself in the mirror no fewer than ten times before he finally convinced himself he looked fine enough to leave. He got to the ramen shop early to beat the rush, buying two orders of his favorite kind since Kenma had told him to “just get whatever.” Boxes in hand, he headed to the monorail station.

As he sat on the train headed to the Metal District, he couldn’t help but feel… not scared, exactly, but nervous. Everyone knew the Metal District was a rough part of town. The humans that were ensconced there were not upright, savory people. Kenma had assured him that he lived close to the monorail station (so they wouldn’t have to walk far) and only a few blocks from the road that divided Green Light and Metal, so if there was a safe part of town, Kenma was in it. Kenma had offered to meet him at the train station. He felt reasonably confident that the two of them could take on any small threats. That didn’t stop all the horror stories he had heard in his years in Patrician from bubbling up to the surface, however. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down. It would be fine. 

Kenma was two stops in from the border. As they crossed over, Kuroo could see the difference in scenery almost immediately. The metal and brick buildings of Green Light faded into more run-down brick buildings lined by cracked sidewalks. He wondered if it would have the same neon glow at night. The streets were nearly empty despite it being midday on a weekend. 

Only a few minutes later, the electronic voice announced that they were arriving at his destination. He stepped over to the doors, holding on to one of the poles as the train slowed to a stop. When the doors opened, he stepped onto the platform, noting with interest that it was primarily androids who stepped off with him. He glanced around, searching, and spotted Kenma at the end of the platform. Kenma gave him a small wave and he headed over.

Kenma seemed unusually subdued, even for him. Nervous? Kuroo wasn’t sure what he had to be nervous about. He wisely didn’t ask, instead holding up the two ramen boxes like a trophy. “I brought lunch for your barren home,” he said with a smile. “I hope you like the toppings I got. I just got two of my favorites since you didn’t have a preference.”

“That’s fine. Good,” Kenma amended. 

Kuroo looked at him closely. He couldn’t help himself. The words were out before he could stop them. “Are you okay, kitten? You seem off.”

“I’m…” Kenma stopped, seeming to change thoughts mid-sentence. “I’m fine.”

Kuroo reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind Kenma’s ear. “I know this is a big deal,” he said quietly. “If you’re not ready, if this is too much, I don’t have to come over today. I don’t want to push you.”

“No,” Kenma hastily said. “No, I want to. I want you to see where I live. I guess I’m just nervous you won’t like it.” He frowned. “I’m not used to caring so much about what someone else thinks.”

Holding the boxes to the side, Kuroo pulled Kenma in for a one-armed hug. “You know I’m going to love it, right? It’s yours. How could I not like anything that’s yours?”

He could feel Kenma relax slightly into the embrace. “You always—“ he started, then paused. Kuroo looked at him with a tilted head. “You always say the right thing,” he finished. “I don’t even think you know you’re doing it. How do you do that?”

Kuroo let him go, but immediately grasped his hand and laced their fingers together. He grinned. “Natural charm and talent. I thought you knew by now that I have both in spades.”

Kenma rolled his eyes, but he smiled. “Let’s go.”

The walk was quick, as Kenma had promised, but it gave Kuroo enough of a Metal District feel. The whole place felt gloomy, crushing. Since there were no stores or restaurants, the streets were nearly deserted. They passed only a few other androids in the two-block walk to Kenma’s apartment. 

They turned a corner and stopped in front of a five story crumbling brick building. It had a single plate glass door entrance and no windows on the first floor. “This is it,” Kenma said, his voice subdued. Kuroo held his tongue; he was determined not to comment on the depressing atmosphere for fear of inadvertently offending Kenma. 

Kenma pushed through the glass door. The lobby was poorly lit and worn down. The carpet was patchy with wear and the walls were painted a horrifying pink color. A door with a sign proclaiming the Manager’s Office was off to the right side and across the lobby was an elevator with a heavy pink door. Kenma led him past this to the stairwell.

“It doesn’t usually work and I’m not in the mood to be stuck in there for an hour,” he said by way of explanation.

They headed up the stairs—painted the same awful pink as the lobby—until they reached the fifth floor. Exiting the stairwell, they made a left and walked to the end of the hallway where it split into a T. Kenma made a right and walked to the very end of the hallway, next to the stairwell. 505, announced the small metal placard. The lock was unusually sophisticated for such a run-down building, and Kenma swiped his coil over it. With a beep, the door unlocked and Kenma swung it open and stepped inside, Kuroo behind him.

Whatever Kuroo had been expecting, especially from the outside of the apartment and the lobby, it hadn’t been this level of normalcy. The front door opened onto a small living room which housed a TV, a couch, and a loveseat. It was sparsely furnished but clean, especially considering two guys lived there. In the back of the room, a counter separated the tiny kitchen from the living room. Two bar stools stood at the bar. After they removed their shoes, Kenma took the food from Kuroo and set it on the bar. 

“This is it,” he said unnecessarily. “I can give you a tour but you’ve already seen most of it.”

Kenma led them down a small hallway off to the left of the kitchen. Three doors, one on either side and one on the end, dotted the hallway. “That’s Lev’s room. I won’t show it to you because it’s a disaster,” Kenma said, gesturing to the room on the left. Then gesturing to the end of the hall, he said, “That’s the bathroom.” And finally, opening the right-hand door, he stepped inside. “And this is my room.”

It wasn’t big, but it was comfortable. A large window had pride of place on the far wall, but it was covered by heavy curtains. Kuroo smiled; Kenma probably didn’t like the sunlight when he was sleeping late. A narrow bed was in the corner under the window. Most notably, however, was the wall across from the bed, by the door. A surprisingly large TV sat on a TV stand, flanked on either side by tall bookshelves that were packed to the brim with all kinds of video games. Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh at the display. 

“You weren’t kidding when you said you play a lot of video games, huh?”

Kenma looked over his collection with a bizarre look of pride. “I love my collection.”

“It’s very you.”

Kenma looked over at him, tilting his head as if he was trying to discern whether it was a compliment or not, and, deciding it was, smiled. “I guess so. Well, that’s the tour.” The unspoken “what do you think?” hung heavy in the air between them. 

“The lobby is the most ungodly shade of pink I’ve ever seen,” Kuroo said. Kenma flinched. “But this? This is nice. You have nothing to worry about, kitten. Thanks for inviting me.” He stepped forward and wrapped Kenma in a hug, resting his cheek on the top of Kenma’s head. After a moment, Kenma’s arms lifted to wrap around his waist. 

“I’m glad you like it.”

“You really thought I wouldn’t?”

“I’ve… never invited anyone over before. Not even anyone from Nekoma.”

Kuroo felt a flush of happiness run through him. “Then I’m doubly honored. I mean that.”

Kenma squeezed, then pulled away. “Let’s eat. We can watch a movie or something.”

“After you.”

They headed back to the kitchen and Kenma threw the boxes of ramen into the microwave for a minute. In the meantime, Kuroo settled in on the couch. When Kenma came over with their food, Kuroo pulled him down to sit flush against him. 

As Kuroo took over unboxing their food and arranging their chopsticks, Kenma turned on the TV and flipped through the channels. Eventually he settled on a reasonably popular action movie that both of them had seen, but would make good background noise. Kuroo handed Kenma his ramen and they both began to eat, watching the movie.

When their meal was finished, empty boxes on the coffee table in front of them, Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh. “This is nice. Very domestic.”

Kenma glanced over, his lips pressed in a thin, vaguely annoyed looking line. “Shut up and watch the movie, Kuro.”

“Your wish, my command. But…” He reached out for Kenma, tugging him close enough that he could enfold him in his arms as necessary. “You were too far away.”

Kenma hid his smile behind twin curtains of blond hair.

For his part, Kuroo desperately tried to pay attention to the movie. It was a good one that he liked. But he was distracted—how could he not be? Kenma was radiating warmth against him. At some point he had tucked his legs up under himself, leaning his weight against Kuroo’s side and snuggling deeper into the confines of his arms. His head was pillowed on Kuroo’s chest and Kuroo had gently rested his chin on Kenma’s head. Kuroo stroked up and down one of Kenma’s bare arms—he was wearing a loose blue tank top today—and tried not to get preoccupied by the slightly raised circuitry on his skin.

Overall, Kuroo was having a very hard time not getting distracted.

He pressed a kiss to the top of Kenma’s head. No response. That was okay. He wasn’t really trying to get one, exactly. But… he bit his lip. The shell of Kenma’s ear was poking out from beneath his hair. It was too tempting. Kuroo leaned down and quickly pressed a kiss to that too. Kenma shifted against him, then tilted his head up to look at Kuroo. From this close range, his eyes were simply stunning. 

“Kuro?”

“Sorry, kitten.” He didn’t have an excuse for himself, not really. He was just so damn happy. Waking up on Christmas morning to the best gift Santa could have ever left happy. He wasn’t sure how to word that without sounding like an incredible sap and ultimately earning himself another eye roll, so he didn’t try. Kenma continued to look up at him, and the pink of his lips was too much to resist. 

“Sorry,” he murmured again before he leaned in and captured those lips with his own. 

Whatever complaints Kenma might have had, they disappeared with that soft press of lips. Kuroo was gratified to find that Kenma opened up for him like a flower reaching for the sun. The arm not sandwiched between them slid to Kuroo’s side, running up and down the fabric of his t-shirt in a gentle caress. Kuroo buried a hand in Kenma’s two-toned hair and gently angled his head until their lips slotted together in perfect harmony. 

Slowly, the kiss deepened. Kuroo tightened his hold around Kenma’s shoulder, pulling him tightly against himself. Kenma’s lips parted and his warm tongue darted out, running over Kuroo’s bottom lip in a slow, wet line. Kuroo couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped from his throat. Kenma used the opening to slip his tongue inside Kuroo’s mouth, brushing against tongue and teeth and the roof of his mouth. Kuroo passively let him explore, only occasionally interfering with his own tongue. The warm, wet slide of their lips and tongues was intoxicating.

Whether it was the angle or the frustration of it just _not being enough_ , Kenma huffed against Kuroo’s mouth and then shifted his body. Their lips parted with a soft sucking sound. Kuroo looked curious, then delighted as Kenma swung one leg over Kuroo’s thighs and propped himself fully in Kuroo’s lap with a leg on either side of him, facing him. He settled, forearms propped on Kuroo’s shoulders, and for a moment they just looked at each other. 

It didn’t last long.

With renewed vigor, Kuroo swooped in for another kiss. One hand was settled on Kenma’s hip, the other pressing to his lower back. Kenma met him with equal voracity, and any hopes Kuroo had of stealing a kiss and then going back to the movie like the tame man he certainly was not disappeared completely. He groaned against Kenma’s mouth as Kenma tangled a hand in his hair, fingernails scratching lightly at his scalp. The tension between them was thick, tangible. Kuroo was lost in a sea of sensation: Kenma’s mouth against his own, Kenma’s hand in his hair, Kenma’s body against his, Kenma’s warm thighs pressing against him. He felt desire, warm and electric, coil low in his belly. 

When Kenma’s mouth broke free to pepper kisses along Kuroo’s jaw, then to bite in a sudden fierce motion against the cord of his neck, Kuroo felt every bit of blood in his body rush south. For one horrible moment, his brain kicked back in, even as he tilted his head back to give Kenma easier access.

“Kitten. _Kenma._ If you’re not—if you don’t want to—we have to stop now unless you’re comfortable with where this is going,” Kuroo said in a harassed voice. 

Kenma lifted his head and met Kuroo’s eyes. Kuroo saw the flicker of desire there, undoubtedly matching his own. He saw the flush across Kenma’s cheekbones. He saw the mouth, swollen from kissing, and the tongue that ran across his lower lip. 

_Oh god, I am so fucked,_ Kuroo thought. _Please don’t stop now, please, please, please._

“We should go to my bedroom,” Kenma said very deliberately.

Kuroo could have burst into song. Instead he burst into action. Renewing his hold on Kenma, he stood up from the couch, Kenma clutched in his arms. Kenma made a soft noise of surprise before wrapping both arms and legs around Kuroo’s body, keeping himself securely in place. Kuroo stole another kiss before walking them both down the hallway to Kenma’s room. 

He deposited Kenma on the bed with a little bounce before sitting down next to him. With the momentary lull, his brain was back in action, a little flicker of anxiety in his stomach. “How do you… uh, how exactly does this work?” he asked, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

Under ordinary circumstances, Kenma would have replied dryly with a textbook explanation of android physiology. However, he seemed to notice Kuroo’s nervousness, and instead spoke with a soft voice, running delicate fingers in a soothing motion over Kuroo’s hand. “We were built to best blend in with human society,” he said quietly. “You won’t notice much of a difference. Except I don’t—“ he stopped, face flushing from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “I don’t, uh, ejaculate.”

Kuroo blinked. “How will I know when you—“

“You’ll know.”

“But—“

“Kuro.” Kenma grasped Kuroo’s hand and brought it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss against his knuckles. “You don’t need to worry so much. But if this bothers you… if you don’t think you can… with an android… I won’t force you.” His face was carefully expressionless, but Kuroo could see the anxiety in Kenma’s eyes, knew from past experience that this was something Kenma often worried about. 

“No,” he said, wrapping his arms around Kenma and hugging him close to his chest. “No, I want this. _God,_ Kenma, you have no idea how much I want this. I just want to make sure I’m, well, doing it right.” He huffed a laugh against the top of Kenma’s head. 

“You don’t need to worry so much,” Kenma said again. “I promise.”

“And I didn’t kill the mood?” Kuroo asked with a self-deprecating smile.

“It’s nothing we can’t get back.”

Kenma scooted forward until they were back in their previous position of Kenma firmly seated in Kuroo’s lap. Worried momentarily abated, Kuroo let himself get back into it. He slid his hands up Kenma’s thighs, fingers skimming over the fabric of Kenma’s light pants, then back down to his knees. He gazed at Kenma, then brushed one thumb over his right cheekbone. 

“You really are magnificent. You know that?”

The blush that rose to Kenma’s cheeks was immensely satisfying. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“Whatever you want, kitten,” Kuroo said. This time the kiss started slow and sweet, unhurried despite where they both knew this was going. It was a lazy brush of tongue on tongue, a gentle hand against Kenma’s cheek, Kenma’s fingers pressed lightly into Kuroo’s shoulders. But when Kenma pulled away to start lavishing attention on Kuroo’s sensitive neck again, Kuroo found his control slip just a tad. 

Kenma kissed, one after the other, in a slow line down Kuroo’s jawline. Angling his head, he moved down to his neck, pressing one long kiss to the spot just above where his neck met his shoulder. Kuroo tilted his head back and to the side, humming low in his throat. That hum turned into a gasp when suddenly lips turned into teeth that nipped none-too-gently at a spot on the column of his throat. Kenma’s soothing tongue laved over the spot like an apology, but the apology was short lived when Kenma moved to the other side of Kuroo’s neck, kissing along the way, and repeated the action. This time he sucked lightly where he had bitten, undoubtedly leaving a mark that Kuroo couldn’t much bring himself to care about despite the explanations he would have to give when Suga invariably ambushed him at work the next day. 

“You like my neck,” Kuroo breathed, eyes slipping closed as he let himself enjoy the attention.

Kenma hummed against said neck, then spoke so that Kuroo could feel every word against his skin. “I really like your neck.”

“You’re going to kill me,” Kuroo said with a groan. 

He felt the huff of a laugh against his neck. “At least it’s a good way to die.”

Kuroo chuckled. “Fair enough.” As Kenma continued his ministrations, Kuroo let himself explore. He ran his fingers along the waistband of Kenma’s pants, enjoying the feel of smooth skin and warmth. He ran one hand up under Kenma’s shirt to skirt across his abdomen, soft with the hint of synthetic muscle under the skin. He ran his hand higher, finding one stiff nipple and tweaking it gently, in return getting the most satisfying moan against his neck. 

“I want to—do you mind--?” Kuroo tugged at the hem of Kenma’s shirt. Kenma detached from his neck and lifted his arms silently. With utmost reverence, Kuroo lifted Kenma’s shirt up and over his head, letting his fingers skim across the skin in a sensual stroke as he did, then threw the shirt over his shoulder to land on the floor behind them. For a moment he let himself appreciate the smooth expanse of pale ivory skin before he wrapped his arms around Kenma’s waist and flipped him so his back hit the bed with a little “oof” of surprise. 

Kuroo wanted nothing more in that moment than to acquaint himself with every inch of that warm skin. He started at Kenma’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to it, before he slid his tongue over Kenma’s collarbone. Then he began a slow, meandering path over Kenma’s collarbones and chest, pausing occasionally to swipe his tongue over a pert nipple. This inevitably earned him a shudder from the android beneath him, and he found himself desperate for more of those little displays of enjoyment. He let himself leisurely explore. His lips trailed over one particularly complicated line of circuitry, tongue occasionally darting out to leave little wet marks across the skin. Kenma had no bellybutton, but Kuroo was unbothered. He kept up his journey south until his lips met the waistband of Kenma’s pants. He nudged his nose against them and glanced up at Kenma, who was looking down at him with the most intense expression Kuroo had ever seen on him. 

Seeming to remember himself, Kenma frowned. “This is uneven and unfair,” he groused, tugging at the collar of Kuroo’s shirt. 

Kuroo laughed. “If you want me naked, kitten, just say the word. I’m at your command.” He sat up and tugged his shirt over his head, tossing it to land with Kenma’s on the floor. 

“I want you naked.” Such a forceful statement, bald as an egg, and Kuroo couldn’t resist it. Trying to force down some of his initial embarrassment, Kuroo stood up, unbuttoned his jeans, and slid them off, leaving himself just in his (heart-patterned, his idea of a joke) boxer briefs. They strained over the bulge of his erection, and Kenma licked his lips.

“Better?”

“Better.”

“But it could be even better still,” Kuroo said, grabbing the bottom of both legs of Kenma’s pants and pulling. Kenma lifted his hips and the pants slid free. Kuroo couldn’t help his soft gasp of surprise when he learned Kenma had nothing on under those pants. He lay there on the bed, fully exposed, the flushed pink of his hard cock prominent against his pale skin. 

Kuroo licked his lips. He felt all words leave him. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to have that cock in his mouth, and he wasn’t going to be shy about it. 

Kenma sat up, scooting to the edge of the bed until he was right in front of Kuroo, who was still standing. He reached one hand out and traced Kuroo’s hard length from root to tip with one finger. A faintly wet spot blossomed on the fabric. Kenma gripped both sides of the boxer briefs and slid them down Kuroo’s legs until he could step out of them. Kenma looked at him like he was a delicious buffet laid out for him alone. 

“Scoot back,” Kuroo requested, biting his bottom lip. Kenma looked up at him curiously, but did as asked, scooting until he was lying back against the pillows. Kuroo knelt on the bed and crawled forward, lying on his stomach and propping one of Kenma’s legs over his shoulder. He could feel the soft press of Kenma’s ankle against his back. “You have no idea how much I’ve thought about this,” he murmured before extending his tongue and licking a stripe along the underside of Kenma’s cock. 

What Kuroo lacked in experience—and if he was being honest, he didn’t have all that much experience—he made up for in enthusiasm. At first he used his tongue only, wrapping his fingers around the base of Kenma’s cock as he licked up and down. Sometimes he swirled his tongue around the head, dipped into the slit. Kenma liked that best, judging by the way his breath hitched. When Kuroo finally slid Kenma’s length into his mouth, sucking hard and swiping his tongue as he bore down, Kenma’s carefully controlled responses broke down and he emitted a high-pitched whine in the back of his throat. Kuroo would have smiled if his mouth wasn’t otherwise engaged. 

He fell into a rhythm of licking and sucking, running his fingers along the soft skin of Kenma’s thigh as he did so. Kenma’s hand found its way to the back of Kuroo’s head, pressing in gentle encouragement. At length he pulled back with a wet pop, continuing to slide his hand up and down through the spit he left behind as he looked up at Kenma with a lazy smile.

“So tell me, kitten, what’s an android’s refractory period look like?”

Kenma looked at him almost challengingly. “We don’t have one.”

“What, at all?”

“No.”

Kuroo’s smirk slid up one side of his mouth. “Perfect.” 

He went back to it, his hand jacking in slow, controlled movements as he lavished attention on the head of Kenma’s cock. He alternated licking and sucking, occasionally incorporating a gentle scrape of teeth, until Kenma was coming undone beneath him. He could feel Kenma’s hands tightening in his hair, feel the tensing of his thighs and stomach. Best of all, he could hear the little gasps and moans and whispered “Kuros” that, if he guessed right, meant Kenma was coming damn close to the high. 

It happened in a rush. After one particularly powerful suck on the head, Kenma stiffened to stillness beneath Kuroo, then cried out in a voice that echoed in the small space. Afterwards, he collapsed into a boneless heap, his hand sliding from Kuroo’s hair to rest on the bed at his side. With one last loving lick, Kuroo pulled back, disentangled himself from Kenma’s legs, and slid up the bed to lie next to him. 

“I promise this isn’t for my ego,” he said after a moment while Kenma controlled his breathing back to normal. “But… good?”

Kenma gazed at him with eyes clouded over with hazy pleasure. “Good,” he affirmed, his voice satisfyingly totally wrecked. “Very good. I told you you didn’t have to worry so much.”

Kuroo leaned in and kissed Kenma on the nose. “But I do.”

Kenma rolled over and straddled Kuroo’s thighs, placing both hands on the smooth planes of Kuroo’s chest. “Well don’t,” he said before leaning in to kiss him. 

Considering how soon it had been since Kenma had come, even knowing about the refractory period, Kuroo was surprised to feel Kenma’s hardness pressing against his own, slippery and warm from the attentions of his mouth. He vaguely wondered if Kenma could control it, will it into action somehow. When Kenma’s hips thrust forward, rubbing them together with delicious friction, Kuroo stopped thinking altogether. 

Kenma did this a few more times, until Kuroo was downright whimpering beneath him. Meanwhile they kissed deeply, tongued entwined, Kenma’s hands sliding over Kuroo’s chest and abdomen. Suddenly he stopped, leaning forward to open the drawer of his bedside table. He rummaged around inside before he found what he was looking for: a little bottle of lube. He sat up, looking like a devious angel, and deposited the bottle on Kuroo’s chest.

Kuroo did his best not to let his eyes bug out. “Do you—for yourself, you need--?”

“No.”

“You got this for me?”

“I like to be prepared.”

 _Oh god._ Kenma had thought about this. Kenma had _prepared_ for this. The knowledge went straight to Kuroo’s cock, making it jump to attention. Kenma opened the bottle, smearing the lube over his fingers and scooting down until he was ensconced between Kuroo’s spread legs. 

“Is this okay?” Kenma asked in a soft voice.

“ _So_ okay. I don’t think I can actually emphasize how okay this is.”

Kenma smiled, amused, and slid a slippery finger down the shaft of Kuroo’s cock. He swept down over his balls, pressed against his perineum, and slid further until he reached the ring of muscle. “I’ll go as slow as you need,” Kenma promised before he pressed one finger inside up to the second knuckle.

It had been a while, and the last person to do this had been himself. It was decidedly different, Kenma’s fingers lacking the callouses of his own, slenderer and infinitely hotter. Kenma pressed the full length of his finger inside, his other hand coming up to stroke Kuroo’s cock in a languid motion. 

“Okay?” Kenma asked.

Kuroo nodded, no words coming to him. Kenma shifted his finger and pressed a second inside, moving as slow as he had promised. With a careful twist of his hand, he searched until—there. Kuroo shouted, jerking upwards, as Kenma’s fingers pressed right against his prostate. Kenma smiled, victorious, and did it again. Kuroo whimpered.

“Okay?”

Another nod.

Kenma’s fingers shifted again, and a third slid in alongside the others. Kuroo winced, the stretch almost too much, and Kenma renewed his attentions on Kuroo’s cock to distract him. His every movement was soft and soothing, despite the way it was working Kuroo up into a frenzy. Kenma slid his fingers in and out, making sure to brush against Kuroo’s prostate on every entrance, until Kuroo was a writhing mess. 

“Enough. If you keep going, this is going to end a lot faster than I think either of us want it to,” Kuroo panted. 

Kenma hummed and pulled his fingers from Kuroo’s ass with a soft pop. He looked momentarily disconcerted. “Do you want… I don’t get diseases, but if you want—“

“No. I’m not worried.”

Kenma nodded. He popped the lube back open and coated his palm before tossing the bottle to the side. He slicked himself up with four quick strokes, wiping his hand clean on his thigh. Kuroo spread his legs wider, hooking one ankle around Kenma’s hip. 

“Are you ready?”

“I couldn’t be more ready.”

Kenma nodded again. Using his hand to guide him, he lined his cock up with Kuroo’s entrance and slowly pushed forward. When the head of his cock pushed through the tight ring of muscle, they both groaned in concert. Kenma slid forward, inch by agonizing inch, until his hips were flush against Kuroo.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” 

With one smooth, slow stroke, Kenma pulled back until he nearly pulled out, then pushed forward at the same slow pace. He leaned forward, both hands on the bed next to Kuroo’s shoulders, and nuzzled at Kuroo’s neck. Kuroo slid his hands down Kenma’s back until he reached his ass, which he squeezed gently and pulled forward in another stroke. Kenma kept his pace slow at first, letting Kuroo adjust, until the man started jerking his hips upward in time with Kenma’s thrusts. His leaking cock left messy streaks across Kenma’s abdomen every time he pressed forward. Their pace increased, increment by increment, until Kenma was nearly slamming into Kuroo, driven on by the pants and moans beneath him.

Kuroo felt every delicious bit of friction right down to his bones. When Kenma bit his neck, leaving a new bruise he would have to explain, he nearly came immediately. But when Kenma reached between them to wrap a hand around his cock, stroking quickly to match the timing of his thrusts, Kuroo couldn’t hold on. 

“Kenma, I’m—“

“Do it,” Kenma growled against his neck. “I’m close.”

That soft, almost devious voice sent him clear over the edge. He came with a shout, head tilted back and back arching sharply, streaks of cum jetting out across his and Kenma’s stomachs. Kenma rode him through it, never once dropping his rhythm, until he gasped and went very still. 

Kenma dropped forward, landing on Kuroo’s chest with a gentle huff. He made a face at the sticky mess between them, but Kuroo’s arms around his waist wouldn’t let him go just yet. 

“We need to clean up,” Kenma said with a frown.

“But that requires moving,” was the petulant response.

“I’ll move and you lay there,” Kenma replied, smiling. He stood up, leaving the room for a moment and returning with a wet washcloth. He washed himself off first, letting Kuroo watch (and did Kuroo ever watch) as he ran the cloth over his stomach and cock. Then, kneeling on the bed, he gave the same attention to Kuroo, until all traces of cum and lube were gone. He stood up to toss the cloth in his hamper, then closed the door. Kuroo raised an eyebrow but did not comment.

As Kenma climbed back onto the bed, snuggling close to Kuroo’s side, he said, “For when Lev gets home. If you’re… are you staying?” He looked up at Kuroo hesitantly, a flash of anxiety in his eyes. 

In response, Kuroo wrapped him in a hug, tugging Kenma until he was half on top of him. “I’m staying, kitten,” he said firmly. “I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

It answered every question lingering in Kenma’s eyes. Snuggling close, they drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.

\---

When Kuroo woke up, he did so languorously, a little bit at a time. He was sore, but it was the delicious kind of sore that he wouldn’t mind waking up to more often. More importantly, there was a warmth against him that he _really_ wanted to wake up to more often. He cracked an eye open and looked down. Kenma reminded him so much of a cat. He was curled up like one, his spine a c-curve, his head nestled against Kuroo’s shoulder and his legs tucked up with one slung over Kuroo’s thigh. He was still sleeping soundly, which answered another question Kuroo had: do androids sleep?

Kuroo glanced over at the clock panel. It was only 6:30, which explained why the sun wasn’t yet peeking through the curtains of Kenma’s window. The apartment was silent, which probably meant Lev was asleep or wasn’t home. He wondered if he could sneak off to shower without waking Kenma. He would have to get ready for work soon; Kenma’s stop was a good hour from his stop in Patrician and he had to be there by 8:30.

Slowly he began the process of disentangling himself from Kenma’s clinging limbs. It resulted in a caterpillar-like crawl down to the foot of the bed, during which the only recognition of his movements from Kenma was a sleepy hum followed by silence. Success.

Kuroo gathered his clothes from the floor, slipped on his boxer briefs and jeans, and peeked out of Kenma’s door. The door to Lev’s room was closed—still sleeping, then. He exited the room quietly, closing the door behind him, and headed to the bathroom. 

Bokuto’s shower could wake the dead. Kuroo only hoped Kenma’s shower wasn’t the same. Wincing, he turned on the water, but immediately relaxed when normal, non-rattling shower noises echoed in the room. He stepped under the water and began to wash his hair.

Was he surprised when Kenma entered the room, still naked, a few minutes later? Most definitely. Should he have been? Perhaps not. It still scared the bejesus out of him when Kenma slipped into the shower behind him and wrapped arms around his waist from the back. 

“Kenma! What are you doing?”

“Saving water,” Kenma murmured sleepily. “It’s more convenient.”

Kuroo closed his eyes and prayed for strength. Kenma’s skin was slippery from the water and rubbed against his back in a far too interesting way. He lost all hope of getting through this without indulging in one of his most cherished kinks when Kenma’s hand slipped down the front of him to lightly grasp at his cock. A few gentle strokes were all it took for Kuroo to stand at full attention. 

“Kitten…” he started, but was quickly silenced when Kenma outright bit him on the shoulder. “…Did you just bite me?”

“You were going to complain. I don’t want you to.”

“Yeah but—“

“I said I don’t want you to.” Kenma squeezed the base of Kuroo’s cock almost painfully, then started his smooth strokes again, circling his thumb around the head in apology. Kenma’s free hand traveled up the hard planes of Kuroo’s abdomen, his defined chest, his sharp collarbones. Fingers tweaked a nipple and Kuroo’s groan echoed in the room around them. Meanwhile, Kenma peppered kisses along Kuroo’s back and shoulders, nuzzled against the nape of his neck, and pressed a kiss there. His hand fondled Kuroo’s balls, rolling them between his fingers, before he started his torturously slow stroking again. Kuroo wasn’t going to be able to come at this pace, but he had something else in mind anyway.

Gently pulling Kenma’s hand away from his cock, he turned in the circle of Kenma’s arms. He was struck by being able to see the entirety of Kenma’s face clearly, hair too slicked back with water to hide behind. He pressed a kiss to Kenma’s forehead and smiled. “You look good like this.”

“I’m wet.”

“I know. I like it.” His smile turned to a grin as he reached between them and realized Kenma was just as hard as he was. Either shower sex was his thing too or he really could turn it on and off when he wanted to. Kuroo wasn’t sure which he appreciated more. Kenma’s blushing face could be attributed to the warm water sluicing over them, but Kuroo knew better. 

Their height difference made the angle harder than Kuroo would have liked it to be, but bending his knees slightly, he was able to line their cocks up to press against each other. Using the water to ease the transition, he wrapped one hand around both of their cocks and stroked. Kenma whimpered, pressing his forehead to Kuroo’s shoulder. 

In the end, it was over far faster than Kuroo wanted it to be. He cursed his mortal stamina and the fact that Kenma got him so worked up even as he floated up to the high and over it, jetting spurts of cum over his hand and Kenma’s stomach. He kept stroking, even pushing himself into oversensitivity with a wince, until Kenma shuddered against him with a keening moan that echoed against the shower walls. 

They held each other, the water running down over them, as they came down from their respective highs. Kuroo pressed a kiss to the top of Kenma’s head. 

“This? I could get used to this.” 

Kenma chuckled quietly against Kuroo’s neck. “Then you’ll have to sleep over more often.”

“Is that an open offer? You might get sick of me.”

“…It’s an open offer.”

Kuroo felt his heart pick up double-time. “Just say the word, kitten. I’ll be on that monorail faster than you can say shower sex.”

Kenma wrinkled his nose adorably as he looked up at Kuroo. “So crude.”

“Maybe,” Kuroo grinned. “But I have to be doing something right.”

They took their sweet time after that, Kenma standing still and allowing Kuroo to wash his hair. It was surprisingly intimate. He stopped Kuroo short of washing his whole body, apparently having reached his limits of intimacy. “I can do it myself,” he huffed, taking the washcloth from Kuroo’s over-willing hands. Kuroo stopped just shy of saying he was no fun because let’s be honest, it wasn’t true. 

Shower finally finished, they took turns drying off with the same towel and then disappeared back into Kenma’s room to finish getting dressed. Kuroo thought of the extra suit he had carefully hanging in a locker at work and silently thanked every deity he could think of because there was less than no time for him to go back to his apartment and change.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do a walk of shame to work,” Kuroo laughed as he tugged on his t-shirt. 

“Are you ashamed?” Kenma asked from his position sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Are you kidding? I’m going to be bragging about this for weeks. Look at these marks.” He ran a finger over the blossoming bruises Kenma had left on his neck and shoulders. “You’re a lot feistier than I gave you credit for, kitten. Suga’s going to have a field day.”

Kenma flushed and turned his head. “You liked it last night,” he mumbled.

“Oh, Kenma,” Kuroo said, walking over and kissing the top of Kenma’s head. “I love it all the time. If you want to throw another into the mix right now, I’d be down.”

Kenma shoved him away with an almost imperceptible smile. “You’re so embarrassing. Aren’t you going to be late for work?”

“Yep. But I can’t get over this.” Kuroo reached down to rub the fabric of Kenma’s gown, so reminiscent of the one Akaashi wore at the spaceport, between his fingers. “Don’t get me wrong, you look good in whatever you wear. Even your safety hoodie. But this… I can get used to this.” He could especially get used to the way it parted from mid-thigh down, exposing the smooth pale skin of Kenma’s leg. _That_ was a mental image he wouldn’t be escaping from anytime soon.

“I don’t like wearing them outside. They’re too revealing, but it’s nice to keep cool inside.” Kenma toyed with the cloth belt. “You really like it that much?”

Kuroo hoisted Kenma up by his shoulders so he could wrap him in a hug. “Don’t get me wrong. I like you every which way. But I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t _doing things_ to me. I just…” He reached down and traced the skin under the slit of fabric. “It provides such easy access.” He grinned toothily as Kenma slapped his hand away. “Just saying.”

“You’re going to be late,” Kenma reminded him. 

Kuroo groaned. “I am. Hopefully the boss won’t be there before me. I’ll see you on Friday?”

“Mm,” Kenma hummed in assent. 

They exited Kenma’s room and walked to the front door. Lev’s door remained blissfully closed; he hadn’t heard them in the shower, then, thankfully. “Oh,” Kuroo said, just remembering. “There’s this protest Suga and crew were telling me about. I want to talk to you about it, okay? I think I’m going to go.”

“We’ll talk about it when you’re not stalling going to work,” Kenma said flatly. 

“Busted,” Kuroo said with a grin. “C’mere.” He pulled Kenma close, leaning down to steal a kiss. 

Kenma pulled back before it could get too heated. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.” He opened the door and forcefully shoved Kuroo out of it. “But…” he added, glancing off to the side with the color high in his cheeks. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too. More than you might know.” Kuroo grabbed Kenma’s hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Until next time, kitten.” 

The monorail ride gave him all the time he needed to replay the events of the night and that morning over and over in his head with perfect clarity. He pulled out his coil and sent a brief message.

Kuroo  
**_Miss you already._**

A few minutes passed before he got a reply, but it was worth the wait for the goofy smile it brought to Kuroo’s face.

Kenma  
**_you too._**

In the end, he was only fifteen minutes late for work which, considering how long he had taken in the shower due to the delicious detour his morning had taken, wasn’t the worst it could be. The collar and tie of his work outfit covered the worst of the bruising, but one particularly dark hickey was still starkly visible on his neck. This made Suga crow with delight and, predictably, harass Kuroo at every given opportunity and, less predictably and certainly less welcome, brought on a stern talking-to from Ukai during his lunch break.

“At least cover it up when you’re working,” Ukai said at the end of his lecture on propriety in the workplace. “Remember that you’re the face of Cosmotropolis.

Kuroo silently felt like telling incomers that Cosmotropolis was a place where you could enjoy a good hickey was precisely the kind of message he would have liked to receive, but wisely kept his response to, “Yes sir. Sorry, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this chapter a day early since I'll be busy tomorrow. Enjoy!
> 
> No lie, Kenma's apartment building is exactly modeled after my first apartment. The lobby was the most awful, ungodly shade of pink I had ever seen and the elevator was carpeted on the walls and pink and always broken. Kenma is even in the same apartment I was, but his actual apartment is way nicer than that shitty little studio apartment was.
> 
> I continue to be absolutely blown away by the response this fic has gotten. I hope you continue to enjoy and please, keep talking to me! I love hearing from you!
> 
>  
> 
> [aazeris.tumblr.com](http://aazeris.tumblr.com)


	7. Making Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bokuto, Akaashi, and Kuroo make their way to Nekoma for a not-double date. Plans for the protest are made.

Friday came slowly. The hickeys on Kuroo’s neck faded, much to his disappointment (was he ever looking forward to receiving a new set). He and Kenma didn’t speak via coil often—Kenma wasn’t a huge fan—but they did text. Mundane things, stories about their respective days, tales of the myriad people Kuroo met at the bureau, and, more often than not, cheesy declarations of admiration from Kuroo that were met with consternation (not that this ever stopped him).

As he got ready on Friday night, he had the news playing on his coil, which sat on the dresser. On the holographic screen, a pristine, primped news anchor was reporting.

“The protests in the Patrician District are getting less peaceful, the conflict between ‘probots’ and ‘robophobes’ reaching a fever pitch. Where once probots were left to protest outside the administration building without interruption, groups of robophobes have now joined the fray. A recent protest this week saw attempts at violence that had to be swiftly put down by Cosmotropolis police. Sources say that another, much bigger protest is being planned, and the whole city has to wonder: what will befall this supposedly peaceful protest?”

“Supposedly,” Kuroo scoffed. “As if they ever went into it without being peaceful.” He turned the feed off with a frown. Admittedly, he worried. Suga’s protest was gaining momentum, Nekoma turning into an unofficial headquarters of planning. It was looking more and more like they would reach their goal of 1,000 or more. Kuroo was proud, but given that the protests were getting more opposition, he couldn’t help but wonder how it would end up.

His coil beeped, indicating a new message, and he opened it up.

Bokuto  
 ** _bro!!!! akaashi and i are going out. double date????_**

Kuroo  
 ** _Kenma’s got work. I’m headed to Nekoma. You want to come?_**

Bokuto  
 ** _hell ya!!! meet u at the station in 15??_**

Kuroo  
 ** _See you there._**

Kuroo finished his preparations in haste and made it to the station at the established time. Bokuto and Akaashi were late, but this wasn’t surprising. Bokuto never made it to anything on time. Kuroo idly played a game on his coil until the unmistakable booming voice of his friend echoed across the station.

“Kuroo!!!!”

He looked up and did a double take, forcibly holding back his laughter. There was no way Bokuto didn’t do this on purpose. Akaashi was wearing one of his diaphanous gowns—bringing up very pleasant memories of Kenma that Kuroo had to suppress—in a subtle grey and white pattern. Bokuto had on jeans and a grey and white flannel that matched Akaashi’s gown to perfection. He was waving enthusiastically, and Kuroo waved in return as they came over.

Bokuto wrapped him in a one-armed hug, refusing to let go of Akaashi’s hand, and ruffled his hair. Kuroo frowned and tried unsuccessfully to repair the damage; nothing would save his bedhead. “Why does it feel like it’s been so long?” Bokuto shouted.

“Your volume, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said calmly. Bokuto wilted a little, but dropped his volume as requested.

“It’s only been a couple of weeks. Did you miss me that much?”

“Yes!! When are we gonna go on a double date, huh? Akaashi and Kenma hang out all the time at Nekoma! It would be super fun!”

Kuroo held out two placating hands. “We will. It’s going to depend on Kenma’s schedule, but we’ll make plans, okay?”

Bokuto seemed satisfied. Their train pulled up and the three of them stepped on board, surprisingly able to secure three seats despite the time. 

“So, Akaashi, you’ve heard about this protest Suga and friends are organizing?” Kuroo asked once they were safely in their seats.

Akaashi nodded. “Suga approached me a few weeks ago. Bokuto-san and I have agreed to attend.”

Kuroo blinked at Bokuto in surprise. “Bo?”

Bokuto broke into a blinding grin. “Of course, dude! I want Akaashi to have all the rights I do! It’s only fair! He deserves everything.” He looked over at Akaashi with what Kuroo could only think of as heart eyes, and Akaashi glanced to the side and softly cleared his throat.

“Hey, I’m glad,” Kuroo said. “I’m going to try to talk Kenma into it too. It’s definitely a good cause. I’m just a little worried, with everything that’s going on.”

“It is worrisome,” Akaashi agreed. “However, we will be acting in a peaceful manner. There would be no cause for violence or police interference. We can only hope for the best.”

They spent the rest of the ride discussing lighter topics, and the trip to Nekoma passed swiftly. Bokuto was practically skipping down the street as they headed to the building.

“I can’t wait to dance with you, Akaashi! You’re such a good dancer!!”

Akaashi smiled softly, running a hand through his curly hair. “You flatter me, Bokuto-san. Do not give Kuroo false expectations of my performance.”

“Hey, don’t worry on my account,” Kuroo laughed. “My attention’s proooobably going to be elsewhere. Just saying.”

“What he means is, nobody shows up on his radar when his little Kenma is in the room!” Bokuto made wet kissy noises in Kuroo’s face. Kuroo pressed a hand to Bokuto’s face and shoved him away, earning an undignified squawk. 

“Don’t embarrass me, bro,” Kuroo said, only half serious. “Kenma’s still not sure about you from the _last_ time you made an ass of yourself on my behalf.”

“Hey, I was just trying to help!” 

“In your charming way, undoubtedly,” Akaashi interjected. He earned himself a whine as Bokuto tugged on his hand, but he only smiled away Bokuto’s pout. 

As they pushed their way inside and were greeted with thumping bass and the low murmur of the crowd, Kuroo waved at Taketora and headed straight for the bar. Kenma’s back was turned, mixing drinks for the substantial crowd at the bar. Lev was down at the end of the bar, a testament to just how busy they were since Kenma rarely let him behind the counter if he could help it. 

“We’re gonna go dance!” Bokuto shouted over the music. “Get us drinks!”

There were no empty seats, so Kuroo pushed his way between a customer and the wall and waited for Kenma to notice him. It took a while, but Kuroo waited patiently. It was all worth it when Kenma finally saw him. The way Kenma’s eyes lit up, even if his expression stayed carefully neutral, was entirely satisfying. Kenma walked over and set a hand on the bar. Kuroo wasted no time taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

“Hi, kitten,” he said with a dopey smile. 

Kenma gave him just a hint of a smile in return. “You’re here.”

“As promised! Gotta warn you though, I’m not alone.” He gestured over to where Bokuto was dancing with wild, flailing arms and no care in the world, Akaashi dancing much more sedately in front of him. “He wanted to go on a double date, but I figured this would work too.”

Kenma looked faintly horrified at the thought of any date with Bokuto, eliciting a warm laugh from Kuroo. “Akaashi is fine, but…”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t agree to anything. I know you still need some time to warm up to him. You’re safe with just me for now. I’m even taking care of the drink orders.” He gave said drink orders and went to let go of Kenma’s hand, surprised when Kenma stopped him. The android glanced around to see if they had any attention, and, deeming none, lifted Kuroo’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his palm. Before Kuroo could say any of the many things that popped into his head, all sure to bring a flush of embarrassment to Kenma’s cheeks, Kenma broke away and went to make the drinks.

Kuroo watched him. There was an effortless grace in the way Kenma moved. He made drinks like it was second nature: a shot here, a shake there, just the right amount of ice in each glass. When he walked back over, he had the three glasses on a small tray.

“Suga and his friends are upstairs if you want to join them,” Kenma said. 

“Oh yeah? I wonder if they’re talking about the protest. They told you about it, right? I was trying to bring it up on Monday—“

“—When you were late for work—“

“—and didn’t have time,” Kuroo ended with a grin. “Did they talk to you about it?”

“Akaashi told me. Apparently he and Bokuto are going to go.”

“I kind of thought… well, hoped that we could go too. I know you’re not one for big displays, but it means a lot to me and I figured it would mean a lot to you too. I’m definitely going.”

Kenma traced patterns on the bar top with a fingertip, thinking. 

“I know it’s a lot of people,” Kuroo added. “And I know that makes you uncomfortable. I don’t want you to feel pressured, kitten. If you’d rather sit it out, nobody will blame you.”

“I’ll go.”

“Wait, really?”

Kenma shrugged his shoulders. “It means a lot to you. It means a lot to me. It means a lot to a lot of people, judging from the amount of planning going into it. If you want me there, I’ll be there.”

Kuroo grabbed Kenma’s hand and squeezed his fingers gently. “It means a lot to me to hear you say that, knowing how much you hate crowds. I’ll keep you safe, okay?”

“Is my safety a concern?” Kenma asked with a slightly worried frown.

“Well I mean, you’ve probably heard the news lately, right? Things have gotten a little heated in the past week or so.”

“Mm.”

“But I mean it. No matter what happens, you’ve got me with you. You’ve seen me prove myself in a fight, anyway. Twice now.” Kuroo grinned toothily, and Kenma rolled his eyes. Turning serious again, Kuroo ran his thumb over Kenma’s knuckles. “I just don’t want you to worry.”

“I’m not worried.”

“Good, then problem solved. I better get these drinks to Bokuto before he elbows somebody in the face.”

“He’s very… enthusiastic,” Kenma said, eyes drifting over to where Bokuto was still flailing on the dance floor.

“That’s our Bo,” Kuroo laughed. “I’ll see you later?”

“Mm.”

Kuroo blew him a kiss, earning a little satisfying blush, and grabbed the three drinks. He headed to an open table, then went to retrieve his companions. 

“Yeaaaaah!” Bokuto crowed when he saw the drinks. “I’m so thirsty!” He downed half his drink in one go, after which Akaashi laid a gentle hand on his arm. He didn’t say anything, but it was all the scolding Bokuto needed to grin sheepishly and put his drink back on the table.

“Kenma told me Suga and all his buddies are upstairs. You guys want to join them?” Kuroo asked.

“Hell yeah! It’s been forever since I’ve seen Suga!” Bokuto shouted. “Let’s go!”

The group was engaged in lively discussion when Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi arrived. Nishinoya caught sight of them first, leaning forward in his seat to loudly shout, “Guys! You’re here!” A chorus of greetings followed, and the three were gladly welcomed into the fold. Kuroo found himself seated between Suga and Nishinoya, who was once again trying his level best to worm his way onto Asahi’s lap, much to the gentle giant’s consternation and very soft protests.

“It’s good that you’re here,” Suga said. “We were just finalizing the plans for the protest. It’ll be in two weeks, on Saturday. You’re still coming?”

“Wouldn’t miss it. I talked Kenma into making an appearance too.”

“Even better, even if I am a little surprised. Doesn’t he hate crowds?”

“He hates crowds, but he doesn’t hate me,” Kuroo laughed. “I think me being there is his inspiration.”

“Young love,” Suga smiled. “Makes us do uncharacteristic things.”

Kuroo flushed hot and cold, biting his bottom lip almost hard enough to make it bleed. Now _that_ was an interesting concept. Kenma liked him, sure, but love? That was a whole different story. He jabbed Suga in the side. “Don’t make fun of us. We’re feeling things out.”

Suga gave him another beatific smile. “Of course. But don’t pretend I haven’t seen you two over these three months. I know you, Kuroo. If you’re not there yet, you soon will be.”

“Yeah, well,” Kuroo said awkwardly, unsure how to respond. 

Suga, sensing his discomfort, had the grace to turn the conversation back to the protest. “Word has spread all over the extranet. I’m honestly a little shocked to see how much momentum it’s gotten. We’re going to march the main streets by the district wards and end up outside the administration block for the final rally. Hopefully it’ll get the message across.”

“And you’re not worried about all these robophobe groups that seem to be on the move? They could interfere. With that many people, who knows what’ll happen.”

With a graceful shrug, Suga took a sip of his sparkly drink. “There’s always some chance things won’t go as planned. We can’t let fear stop us.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Of course you’re right. Just…” Kuroo stopped, gathering his thoughts. Why was he so anxious? His eyes drifted over to the stairs, beneath which sat the bar. Maybe it wasn’t as complicated as he thought. “Now that I’ve got someone to protect, I guess I worry a little more.”

Nishinoya, blatantly eavesdropping, emitted a long, drawn-out, “awwwwwww.” Kuroo dragged a hand over his face. Looked like no one was going to let him live down his overblown affection tonight.

“Try not to worry too much,” Suga said. “We’re there for peaceful protesting and nothing more. We’ll handle whatever comes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a baby chapter this time. The last chapter was over 7,000 words so hopefully that kept you sated through this one. The next chapter is my favorite in the whole story so at least you have that to look forward to! I might post three chapters this week since I feel like this one was too short, but we'll see.
> 
> Thank you again and again for your comments, kudos, and the sweet messages you've been sending on tumblr. I am just blown away.
> 
> [aazeris.tumblr.com](http://aazeris.tumblr.com)


	8. The Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo is introduced to the world of spooky video games. Kenma's concentration is sorely tested (to everyone's ultimate satisfaction).

Kuroo knocked heavily on the door, overnight bag slung over his shoulder and two boxes of skewers from one of his favorite places in one hand. They had decided it made more sense for Kuroo to spend the night at Kenma’s, half because Kuroo desperately _wanted_ to spend the night (he always did) and half to make sure Kenma, if he was ultimately feeling up to it, actually went to the protest. 

Kenma answered the door in one of the classic android floaty gowns, this one bright sky blue. Kuroo had to take a few moments to physically control himself. He knew Kenma never wore them outside, which was where Kuroo saw him the most, so seeing him in the layers of diaphanous fabric that always hung _just so_ was inevitably a shock to the system that made it very hard for him to behave like the gentleman he was (or pretended to be). 

“You’re staring.”

“Can’t help it. I brought food!” Kuroo held up the boxes, swinging the bag back and forth on his pointer finger. “And a special treat. I swung by the bakery to pick up your apple pie, too.”

Kenma’s eyes lit up. “Now we’re even.”

“Even?”

As he turned to reenter the apartment, Kenma tugged on one of the layers of the flowing skirt. 

Kuroo followed him inside. “And here I thought you wore it as a special treat for me,” he said dramatically, hand over his heart. 

“I did. This is just an added bonus that makes us even.”

They paused in the kitchen to unbox the food. Kuroo was ravenous, and not just because Kenma was in one of his favorite outfits. He had skipped breakfast when he woke up late and almost missed the monorail that would have given him enough time to pick up food and gotten him to the apartment at their agreed-upon time. Kenma arranged the skewers on two black plates and gestured to the hall that led to his bedroom. 

“I got a new game I want to show you.”

Kuroo laughed. “Of course you did. Do you need me to help with one of the levels?” Kenma didn’t dignify that with an answer beyond one stony stare that had Kuroo laughing even harder. “Right, right, silly question.” He picked up the two plates and gestured with one of them. “Lead on.”

Kenma walked them into his room and shut the door behind them. “Lev’s not home?” Kuroo asked.

“Out with Yaku. Don’t complain.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it. It makes it more convenient for all the loud, filthy sex we’ll have later.”

Kenma wrinkled his nose with distaste. “Keep that up and there won’t be any sex, loud or otherwise.” 

Kuroo closed his mouth with an audible click and couldn’t help the smirk that slid across his lips as he wisely remained silent in the face of Kenma’s disapproval. Kenma began the task of setting up his console and various accoutrements while Kuroo slid to the floor with his back against Kenma’s bed. While Kenma set up, he helped himself to a skewer. “So what kind of game is it?”

“It’s a classic retro game from earth that was remastered for current consoles. I mean, it’s at least 100 years old, and I’ve heard it still holds up. I’ve been wanting to play it but I had to order it special since it’s so popular. I’ve been on a waiting list for six months.” 

Kuroo was suitably impressed. “I knew you took your games seriously, but wow.”

“Mm. I’ve really been looking forward to this.” Kenma grabbed the controller and sat down between Kuroo’s spread legs, propping his back against Kuroo’s chest. The console finished booting up and the title screen displayed a foggy town with game options overlaid in a menacing text. The title proclaimed it to be Silent Hill 2. 

“This looks spooky. Is it a spooky game?”

“It’s a horror game,” Kenma replied, shifting so that he was more comfortable with his legs crossed at the ankle. He smoothed his skirt over his legs, removing the previously delightful view of his calves that Kuroo had been enjoying. “You won’t be too scared, will you?”

“Pssh. Me? Never.”

As it turned out, Kuroo _was_ scared. He clutched Kenma around the waist as James the protagonist wandered down a foggy path through the woods with sinister noises echoing with every step he took. He yelped outright when a cutscene in the cemetery started to play, even though it ended up being innocuous. And when the first monster showed up, he buried his face in the spot where Kenma’s shoulder met his neck and whimpered. 

“I had no idea you were such a baby,” Kenma said, laughter edging his voice. 

Kuroo had turned his attention back to the skewers, mainly as a way to distract himself. “I’m not a baby. This game is scary and nothing has even happened!”

“It’s supposed to be scary. It’s atmospheric horror.”

“It’s working.” Kuroo reached around to hold a skewer up to Kenma’s mouth, and Kenma bit into the meat.

“If you’re too scared, I can turn it off,” he said around chewing.

“Are you kidding?” Kuroo took his own bite, then held up the skewer for Kenma again. “I’m having a blast. I have endless excuses to cuddle against you and you can’t even complain except to call me a scaredy-cat. It’s awesome.”

At length the skewers were finished, a collection of sticks on the plates, and Kuroo had settled a bit now that his stomach was full. Not that he wasn’t still jumpy. When James turned a corner, ran down a hall, and ended at a metal gate with a giant red monster standing on the other side, Kuroo yelped and jumped hard enough to bash his elbow on the frame of Kenma’s bed. This sent Kenma into a fit of adorable giggles. 

“Are you okay?”

“What the hell is _that?_ ” Kuroo exclaimed loudly, finger pointing at the screen. 

“That’s Pyramid Head. He’s one of the main enemies.”

“Clever name,” Kuroo said with a roll of his eyes. “Why’s he just standing there? Shouldn’t he be attacking or something?”

“The bars are in the way,” Kenma said, as if this fact were obvious—which it was. “We meet him again later. You’ll really like it. I’ve seen it on the extranet.”

“Somehow, kitten, I think you’re mocking me.” Kuroo dug his fingers into Kenma’s sides, wiggling gently. Kenma squirmed and slapped his hands away, but Kuroo would not be deterred. “But I know my sweet…little…Kenma—“ he punctuated each word with an increasingly vicious attack on Kenma’s sides “—would never do such a thing, right? Right?”

Kenma was a boneless mess in his arms, slumped forward and laughing helplessly. “I wouldn’t,” he gasped out. “I would never, now stop!” 

Kuroo wasn’t entirely unreasonable. Satisfied, he stopped his assault and tugged Kenma back against the relative safety of his chest. He rested his chin on top of Kenma’s head, soft hair tickling his neck. “You’re so mean to me,” he said in a mock wounded voice. 

“But I must be doing something right, or you wouldn’t be here,” Kenma said, lilting his voice to match Kuroo’s as he echoed his words from a few weeks ago. 

Kuroo hugged around Kenma’s waist, grinning. “Damn right. Okay, my nerves are steeled. Let’s see what other horrors poor James has in store for him.”

\---

Kuroo wasn’t bored, exactly. The game was interesting and he loved how engrossed Kenma was in it. The problem was, in fact, Kenma himself. Despite the fact they had sat like this dozens of times before, Kuroo was having trouble focusing with Kenma ensconced between his legs in that damn delicious gown. He kept running his fingers over the soft fabric covering Kenma’s stomach, trying to be as unobtrusive as possible. Sometimes he would tangle his fingers in one of the layers of fabric over Kenma’s thigh, and this always made Kenma shift in a delicious way that Kuroo was definitely having trouble not responding to.

He knew the dangers of interfering when Kenma was in Gaming Mode, but an idea had wormed its way into his head and he was having trouble dislodging it. 

“Hey Kenma,” he said, tracing one finger up Kenma’s thigh to the juncture of his hip. “How high do these slits go?”

“What?”

“I’m asking for science.”

Kenma threw a look over his shoulder and then set the controller down on the floor in front of him. His legs were folded under each other, the fabric draped over them. He dug around in the skirt, found the slit Kuroo was talking about, and parted it until it came together mid-thigh. Kuroo found his mouth going dry at the smooth expanse of leg Kenma had laid bare. 

“Does it have slits on both sides?”

“No.” 

Kuroo ran a finger over the pale skin of Kenma’s thigh, tracing the circuitry there. “I want to try an experiment. Will you let me?”

“What kind of experiment?”

“All you have to do is keep playing. That is, after all, why we’re here, and definitely no other reason.” Kuroo cleared his throat, failing hard at keeping the lilting teasing out of his voice. “Seriously, though. Get James through the apartments. He’s counting on you!”

Kenma shifted his weight so he could look over his shoulder at Kuroo fully. He looked skeptical, eyes narrowed in distrust. “What’s the experiment, Kuro?”

“You won’t let it even be a little bit of a surprise?”

The skepticism increased. “Kuro…”

Kuroo reached around Kenma and picked up the controller, pressing it firmly into Kenma’s hands. “Just play.” 

Kenma squinted his eyes harder, then turned back around. He extended his legs back in front of him and went to cover up the skin the slit had exposed. Kuroo grabbed his hand before he could do so. “Leave it. Please?”

“…Fine.”

Kenma resumed playing, and it was time for Kuroo to play. He, for the moment, left Kenma’s thighs alone. Kuroo swept Kenma’s hair to the side, holding it out of the way as he pressed soft kiss after soft kiss to the back of his neck. He felt, rather than saw, the delicate shiver that ran through Kenma at the attention. As he continued to kiss, sometimes moving to the side of Kenma’s neck, sometimes running his tongue over the shell of Kenma’s ear, Kuroo rubbed across his stomach, then up his chest. He dipped his fingers against Kenma’s exposed collarbone and then ran both hands down the expanse of his abdomen to clutch at his hips. 

“Kuro…” 

“Just keep playing,” he murmured in Kenma’s ear as he ran a hand across the android’s stomach. The fabric shifted under his fingers. 

Kuroo’s lower half was getting interested, but for the moment he tried to keep his own arousal under control while he tested the limits of what Kenma could endure while continuing to play. One hand slid down his right thigh, fingers dancing over the spot where the slit opened and his skin began. With his free hand he tugged the left shoulder of Kenma’s gown down so he could pepper kisses across the skin there. Kenma shifted between his legs, creating a moment’s worth of delicious friction, before going still again. 

Time for phase two.

The finger against Kenma’s thigh slid under the fabric, pushing the slit up and up until it had moved to Kenma’s upper thigh. Kuroo found himself eternally thankful for how giving the fabric was, because it would make phase two a lot easier. He slid his fingers over Kenma’s inner thigh, then up and up until his fingertips found the tip of Kenma’s cock. He teased his fingers over it, grinning at the flicker of interest his touch elicited. 

Kenma went very still. On screen, James stopped moving. Kuroo clucked his tongue, kissed along the rim of Kenma’s ear. “Keep playing, kitten. We’ve reached the experimental part of our evening.”

Kuroo could practically hear “challenge accepted” as Kenma reapplied his grip to his controller and continued to play. He ran a finger up Kenma’s cock, gratified by the continuing hardness growing there, silk over steel. Just the touch of him made Kuroo’s mouth water, desperate to be there between Kenma’s legs, licking and sucking and making Kenma unravel beneath him. But that could happen later. Now, he wanted to see just how far Kenma’s concentration would last. 

He removed his hand from Kenma’s length and held it, palm open, in front of Kenma’s face. “Lick for me?”

Kenma shuddered. Then a tentative hot tongue was licking a stripe over Kuroo’s palm, leaving a warm slick of saliva in its wake. Kuroo had to suppress his own shudder at the electric static that tongue left behind. His erection was getting uncomfortable in his jeans, but he tried to ignore it. This was about Kenma.

Dipping his hand back under the fabric, Kuroo wrapped a strong hand around Kenma’s now fully-erect length and stroked once, slow and languorous, starting from the base and working to the tip. He indulged himself in a few lazy strokes before he concentrated on the head, pressing his thumb into the slit before rubbing along the ridge. Kenma groaned, low in his throat, at the pressure. To his credit, James never stopped moving on the screen. 

Lazy strokes gained more purpose. Kuroo alternated pressure, sometimes squeezing near the base, sometimes only dragging the lightest touch across skin. Kenma was writhing now, rubbing his ass constantly against Kuroo’s cock and increasing the pressure there. Still James continued his adventure. Kuroo sped up his strokes, jacking Kenma with purpose the more he writhed. He tilted his head down and kissed along Kenma’s shoulder, nosing his hair out of the way so he could give similar attention to Kenma’s neck. 

Kenma was getting close. Kuroo could feel it in the quick breaths puffing out of him, the low groans that echoed in the room, the tightness of his muscles. Kuroo increased the momentum another notch. It was when Kuroo, overcome by the shifting, squirming body against him, bore his teeth and bit into Kenma’s neck that Kenma froze, his back arching and his head dropping against Kuroo’s shoulder, a full body shudder wracking through him. The controller clattered to the floor, James forgotten in the wake of Kenma’s climax. Kuroo dropped his pace to slow, loving strokes, working Kenma to near oversensitivity, before he pulled his hand free and placed it on Kenma’s stomach. He rubbed soothing circles there as Kenma gathered himself. 

“How did I do?” Kenma asked through his panting breaths.

“Better than I would have done,” Kuroo replied with a breathy laugh. 

Kenma nudged the controller away with his foot and got onto his knees. He spun around until he was face-to-face with Kuroo, his cheeks flushed and his eyes glazed with the remains of pleasure. “Is the experiment over?”

Kuroo leaned back on his hands and offered a lazy smile. “Ready to go again already, kitten?”

“I’m just making sure you’re done with what you wanted to do,” Kenma said, reaching between them to grasp at Kuroo’s erection through his jeans. “Because now it’s time to do what _I_ want to do.”

Kuroo felt those words run straight to his cock. He gestured to himself, running his hands through the air from head to legs. “I’m at your mercy.”

“I know,” Kenma said with a little private smile. Both hands went between them, working the button and zipper on Kuroo’s jeans. Kenma tugged, and Kuroo lifted his hips so Kenma could slide the jeans over his ass to mid-thigh. His erection was straining against his boxer briefs—cats this time—a little wet spot over the head. Kenma looked down, then met Kuroo’s eyes. Keeping their eyes locked, Kenma slowly and deliberately ran his tongue over his lower lip. Kuroo whimpered.

Kenma leaned in for a brief kiss. Before it could get too heated, he pulled away and scooted back. “I’m going to give you a special present,” he said in what Kuroo could only think of as a sex kitten voice. As he laid prostrate on the floor between Kuroo’s legs, he reached behind himself to pull the layers of the skirt up, up, up until the long lines of his legs and his bare ass were exposed. 

“That is a special present,” Kuroo said weakly. Kenma knew every way to really get Kuroo riled up. The sight of Kenma lying on the floor, the fabric of his gown pooled around him while his pale, bare skin glowed in the setting sunlight, was nearly enough to make him come on the spot. Kenma, however, had more in store for him.

Kenma leaned forward, swirling his tongue around Kuroo’s bellybutton. He pressed kisses along the thin line of hair that led from his navel down to the waistband of his briefs. His lips pulled back, exposing teeth, and he gripped the fabric between his teeth and pulled. He dragged down, down, pulling outward, until Kuroo’s cock sprang free. Unfortunately, it smacked Kenma in the nose, leaving a slick of precum there. Kenma jumped back, eyes wide and nose wrinkling, as Kuroo burst into hysterical laughter. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Kuroo said through his laughter. Kenma glared at him. “I’m sorry. Come here.” He guided Kenma’s face towards him with a thumb and forefinger on his chin, then swiped the line of precum away with his fingers. “See? All better.” 

Kenma huffed, almost laughing himself. With a small shake of his head, he pulled at Kuroo’s briefs until they joined his jeans at mid-thigh. He settled back on the floor in his previous position, eyes turning hungry again as he lined his mouth up with Kuroo’s cock. He didn’t waste time teasing; they were both too worked up after Kuroo’s ministrations. Instead he immediately swallowed Kuroo down until the head of his cock bumped against Kenma’s throat. Kenma swallowed around him, and Kuroo shouted his approval. 

“I really like,” Kuroo gasped, his eyes squeezing shut, “your lack of a gag reflex.”

Kenma hummed around him, and that was an entirely new sensation for Kuroo to moan about. He started to bob his head, keeping his lips tight for suction as he worked his tongue over the underside of Kuroo’s shaft. After a few minutes of long sucks and a dancing tongue, Kenma pulled back, a single string of spit and precum connecting his lower lip and the tip of Kuroo’s cock. Kuroo leaned forward, tugging Kenma up until the string broke, and kissed Kenma hungrily, tasting himself on Kenma’s lips. Their tongues rubbed together in a sensual motion, Kuroo getting more and more into it, until Kenma broke away, panting. 

“I’m going to give you another present,” Kenma said, the color high on his cheeks. “I know you like—I—never mind.” He cut himself off, not able to finish the sentence. He held his hand out, palm up, and stared Kuroo in the eye. “Lick.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened, but he obeyed without hesitation. He took his time with it, dragging his tongue in a slow, sensual line from Kenma’s palm to the tips of his fingers, making sure to leave plenty of spit in his wake. This done, Kenma scooted back again, this time staying on his knees. With his clean hand, he tugged the gown up and threw the fabric of the skirt over his shoulder so the entirety of his lower half was on display. Kuroo couldn’t look away as Kenma ran his spit-slicked hand over his flushed, pink cock. He tilted his head back, moaned, as he started working himself with slow strokes. 

“Oh god,” Kuroo breathed. Kenma was right; he liked. He liked _very_ much. This image of Kenma on his knees, shameless and rubbing himself, was almost too much. His hand wandered to his own erection, and he started to pump himself. 

Kenma noticed and none-too-gently slapped his hand away. “Only me,” he breathed. Kuroo let out an animal sound, somewhere between a grunt and a whine, but obeyed. He splayed both hands on the floor beside him. Kenma leaned down and reintroduced his mouth to Kuroo’s cock. Kuroo could see his hand still working beneath him, although the show was obscured. He decidedly did not mind when Kenma slurped at the head and took him back into his mouth. Gradually the sliding motion of his hand matched the rhythm of his mouth on Kuroo, and Kuroo’s eyes were locked on the display. 

“Kenma, there’s no way—I’m not going to last,” Kuroo panted between moans. Everything was too much, the sight of Kenma’s mouth stretched wide over his cock, the image of him working himself with steadily increased speed. 

“Don’t,” Kenma mouthed over the head of Kuroo’s cock. “I don’t want you to.”

That was all the permission Kuroo needed to let himself go. He felt electric heat pooling in his stomach, his abs tightening as he gently fucked up into Kenma’s willing mouth. A few more wet slicks of Kenma’s tongue and lips spoke the end, Kuroo thrusting forward and shooting cum down Kenma’s throat. Kenma groaned around him, his hand picking up speed as he swallowed down all Kuroo had to offer. With the effort of kings, he made himself stop stroking and sat up, scooting forward again and wiping his lips clean. 

Kenma didn’t give Kuroo a chance to recover before grabbing his hand and placing it on his straining erection. Kuroo didn’t need to be asked. He wrapped an arm around Kenma’s waist, pulling him closer, and started to quickly stroke over him. His fingers pressed into the base of Kenma’s spine. Kenma was taunt as a bowstring against him, writhing against his palm, a desperate tableau of debauchery. 

Kuroo leaned in and nudged Kenma’s hair out of the way, laving his tongue against his throat. “Come for me, kitten. I need—“

Kenma keened loudly, tilting his head back to give Kuroo better access to his neck. “Like that,” he gasped. “Just like that. Kuro…”

And then he was coming, Kuroo’s tongue on his neck and hand working swiftly. He dug his fingers into Kuroo’s hips and cried out, back arching sharply against the spike of pleasure. He gasped Kuro’s name between panting breaths, then slumped forward against him.

They sat like that, Kenma wrapped tightly in the circle of Kuroo’s arms, their heads each resting on the other’s shoulders, as their breath slowly returned to normal. Kuroo looked for a charming comment and came up empty. Instead he stroked over Kenma’s back, pressed a kiss to his shoulder. 

There was a confession on his tongue, Suga’s words coming back to him. _I know you. If you’re not there already, you soon will be._ It sat, heavy, choking him. 

_This isn’t the time,_ he told himself sternly. _After sex is never the time._

Instead he nudged Kenma back so he could pull his jeans back up and return himself to modesty. That finished, he reluctantly tugged the fabric from over Kenma’s shoulder and let it drift down to cover both of their legs. It would be easy. _I love you._ He wanted to say it. Denied himself.

“Poor James has been waiting,” he said instead, gesturing at the screen with his chin where James stood, surrounded on all sides by gloom and monsters lurking in hallways. 

Kenma chuckled and turned back around, settling again comfortably between Kuroo’s legs. “Better not keep him waiting. Pyramid Head has big plans for him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my favorite chapter to write because I thought it was adorable. They are adorable nerds. Interestingly enough, this chapter came about because I was stuck on the next two and I wanted to take a break with something fluffy. It's always the unplanned stuff I end up liking the most.
> 
> I love Silent Hill 2 and you should too.
> 
> Thank you for your continued support! I hope you enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> [aazeris.tumblr.com](http://aazeris.tumblr.com)


	9. The Protest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long-awaited day of the protest arrives. Kenma finds the crowd more than he anticipated, and Kuroo finds he really, really hates being right.

“I can feel you worrying,” Kenma said from the kitchen. “We don’t have to go.”

Kuroo turned around, propped on his knees and draping his arms over the back of the couch. “How are you _not_ worried?” Kuroo asked incredulously. They had just finished watching another news report of violence between the probot and robophobe groups. The police had gotten involved again, and Kuroo’s anxiety was spiking. Violence the night before a thousand-person march didn’t send the best, most hopeful message.

Kenma wandered over with two mugs of tea in his hands. He handed one to Kuroo and sat down. “I trust them,” he said simply. “The idea is a peaceful protest. We have to trust that’s what it’s going to be.”

Kuroo took a sip of tea before placing the mug on the coffee table. He righted himself on the couch and flopped over, nuzzling his face into Kenma’s shoulder. Kenma ran fingers through his hair in a calming gesture. 

“Don’t get me wrong, I know it’s important,” Kuroo said, voice muffled against Kenma’s hoodie. “But the thought of something happening to you…”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.”

“But it _could_.”

“We don’t have to go.”

“We do.”

“Then you should stop worrying.” Kenma leaned forward to place his mug on the table and turned, crossing his legs to face Kuroo on the couch. He lifted both hands and cupped Kuroo’s cheeks, running his thumbs along his cheekbones. “Worrying about what could or couldn’t happen is a waste of energy. Whatever happens happens, and we’ll deal with it.” 

Kuroo placed his hands over Kenma’s on his cheeks and forced a smile. “You’re always so calm, kitten. How do you manage it?”

“I don’t,” Kenma said simply. “I just don’t like wasting energy on useless things. And you’ll be there. I trust you.”

“Sometimes you act like I’m such a superhero,” Kuroo said with a small smile. “Makes me feel like I can do anything.” He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Kenma’s lips. “How long until we have to leave?”

Kenma glanced at his coil. “Ten minutes.” 

“Damn.” Kenma glanced at Kuroo curiously and got a toothy smirk. “Not enough time for a quickie, even.”

Clearing his throat, Kenma ducked his head down and hid behind his hair. “Last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Oh kitten,” Kuroo said, pulling Kenma into his lap and nuzzling against his neck. “I can never get enough of you. You should know that by now.”

\---

The monorail was packed, standing room only. As he looked around, Kuroo couldn’t help but wonder how many of the people, human and android, on the train were headed to the protest. Given what Suga had said, he had a fair guess that most of them were headed that way. He and Kenma stood in the middle of the car, Kenma grudgingly letting Kuroo hold on around his waist since he was too short to comfortably grab the hanging hooks. Kuroo tugged him closer until he was pressed right up against his side and grinned.

“Sorry, kitten. Just want to make sure you don’t fall.”

Kenma wrinkled his nose but didn’t pull away. 

The one benefit of letting Kuroo do all the work of holding him up was that Kenma was able to pull out his coil and play a game the entire way. Kuroo watched over his shoulder, occasionally offering commentary. Nearly 45 minutes later, they were disembarking with most of the rest of the passengers at the stop by the administrative block.

“Finding Suga and company is going to be a fun challenge in this crowd,” Kuroo said, taking Kenma’s hand and twining their fingers together so they didn’t get separated. 

“They said to meet on the corner of Main outside the government building,” Kenma said, glancing at his coil. “Keiji and Bokuto are already there.” 

Kuroo was gratified to see that both humans and androids comprised the group milling around on the sidewalks, preparing for the march. Not that he didn’t expect humans to show up, exactly, but he was happy to see an even mix of both. They headed to the appointed corner, weaving through clusters of people, Kenma gripping Kuroo’s hand like a vice. Kuroo exhaled in relief when he saw a familiar shock of black and white spiky hair. 

Bokuto waved both arms in the air over his head. “Kuroo! Kenma!” 

Kuroo and Kenma slid into place next to Bokuto and Akaashi. “This is one hell of a turnout,” Kuroo said, eyeing the waves of people spread in every direction.

“Isn’t it awesome? This has gotta make a statement, right?” Bokuto said excitedly. “Look, there’s Asahi!” Sure enough, Asahi towered over everyone near him. As they got closer, it seemed as though he was patiently arguing with Nishinoya over whether the former would carry the latter on his shoulders during the march.

“Hey guys,” Kuroo said with a wave. Now that they were close, they could see the rest of the gang had also congregated nearby. “Are we ready to march?”

Nishinoya pumped a fist in the air. “I am so psyched! Look at all these people! Suga’s having a heart attack. He knew word had spread but I don’t think he expected this much support. It’s freaking awesome!” He glanced at his coil. “I think we’re gonna start in 15. Waiting to make sure more people don’t show up—or do!”

Kuroo nodded and pushed his way over to Suga, who was in animated conversation with Daichi. “Congrats, Suga,” Kuroo said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Suga spun around and smiled brightly. 

“Isn’t it amazing? Who could have expected this many people to show up? I’m getting coil messages from people all the way down to the spaceport. That’s almost a mile of people, Kuroo! A mile!” 

Kuroo smiled, genuinely thrilled. “Congrats, man. This is a hell of an accomplishment.”

“It’ll be a hell of an accomplishment if the government officials actually listen,” Daichi interjected. “But this is pretty damn good too.”

Suga’s coil rang and he stepped away to take it. Kuroo glanced at Kenma, who was looking a little pale. He placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him so they were facing each other. “Are you okay?”

“There are a lot of people here,” Kenma choked out. 

“Let’s take a minute.” Kuroo wrapped an arm around Kenma’s shoulders and led him over to the metal siding of the nearest building. He placed his back against the metal and maneuvered Kenma so that they were facing each other. Kenma looked up at him with wide eyes as he reached out and pulled the hood of his jacket up over his head. He tugged at the strings, tightening it a bit. 

“There. Now you can only see me, right? Let’s breathe for a little while, okay?”

Kenma took a deep breath, then another. Meanwhile he kept his eyes locked on Kuroo, who kept his gentle smile in place. 

“You’re doing great, kitten. Keep going.” Kuroo took Kenma’s hands in his and squeezed. 

In, out. They breathed together until gradually the color came back to Kenma’s face. He frowned, and Kuroo knew he was annoyed by his own anxiety.

“Don’t do that,” Kuroo softly admonished. “If you’re uncomfortable, you’re uncomfortable. It’s awesome that you made it here, okay? Don’t diminish that.” He tugged Kenma closer, then wrapped him in a warm hug. 

Kenma pressed his face into Kuroo’s chest, nuzzling against the fabric of his t-shirt until he was completely hidden by his hood and Kuroo. “How do you do that?” he muttered, voice muffled.

“Do what?”

Kenma spread his arms to the side, encompassing all of Kuroo, then once again grabbed Kuroo’s hips. “Everything.”

“I’m a superhero, remember?” Kuroo laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you and I’m not letting go, okay? Promise.”

Nodding against Kuroo’s chest, Kenma relaxed by degrees. “I know.”

Suga stood a few feet away, waving at them and tapping his coil. Kuroo nodded, then rubbed a soothing circle on Kenma’s back. “It looks like it’s time to go. Are you okay?”

With one more deep breath, Kenma nodded and stepped away. “I’m okay.” He did, however, leave his hood up as they walked over to rejoin the group, hand in hand.

The plan was simple: start at the administrative block, head west through the district proper, effectively shutting down the main streets of the district, swing through the tourist ward (where the bureau was located and they might pick up support from offworlders), then circle back via a slightly different set of main streets until they ended up back in the administrative ward where they would wait in front of the government building until someone acknowledged their presence. Whether it would be enough to enact change, well, that was still to be determined. But to Kuroo, it sounded like a good plan. 

Suga and his cohort were at the head of the line, and Kuroo figured sticking with them was their best bet. Being at the front meant they weren’t as surrounded on all sides by a press of strangers, and judging from the way Kenma was jittering beside him, his hood still firmly in place, Kuroo thought that was a better plan. They were still flanked by a group twelve people wide, but with his hood up, Kenma couldn’t really see them. 

“Really, this is just like a romantic walk through Patrician,” Kuroo said, swinging his and Kenma’s hands between them. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of a date like this sooner.”

“I like our dates to have fewer onlookers,” Kenma groused. “The hood… I’m kind of hot.”

“Extremely hot,” Kuroo agreed. To his surprise, Kenma laughed outright, but it had an edge of hysteria to it. “You really are okay, right Kenma? I thought being up front would be better.”

“Yes… no, you were right. This is better. I don’t know why—“

“You’re participating in a potentially life-changing event for a lot of people in which a _lot_ of people are participating. That’s why.”

“Yes, but Nekoma—“

“Is your home base and full of people you know, so it feels safe.”

“…You’re being very understanding.”

Kuroo glanced over. “Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

“No. Yes. Maybe. I’m not sure. I’m… not at my best.”

“If you think I’m only here for you at your best, you’re really underestimating me.” Kuroo felt a flicker of frustration, tried to suppress it. He needed to be understanding, not frustrated. Getting annoyed wasn’t going to get Kenma through this unscathed. 

Kenma was silent for a long time as they walked, and Kuroo was not bolstered by his silence. He didn’t really think Kuroo was going to bail at the first sign of Kenma struggling with something, did he? Kuroo felt a pang in his heart. He just wanted to help. He wanted his feelings to be known. He wanted Kenma to feel comfortable and safe with him, no matter where they were. It stung to know that he might not be the pillar of stability he had always assumed he was.

“I’m not underestimating you,” Kenma said at last. “I’m acknowledging that I’m not the easiest person to be with. You can’t deny that, Kuro.”

“I’m not denying it,” Kuroo said with brutal honesty. “You’re cagey and sometimes it’s hard to judge if you’re interested in something or just going along for the ride. But I know you, Kenma. I’ve gotten to know you. And despite whatever flaws you think you have, I care about you. Always. Helping you be less nervous in a crowd isn’t going to change that. I’ll just try harder. You ignoring me for video games isn’t going to change that. I’ll just offer commentary over your shoulder. You secretly acting like you don’t like my overblown sense of affection isn’t going to change that. I know you actually like it, or you wouldn’t keep me around. So this… weird attempt to push me away, or whatever it is you’re doing? You can stop now. I’m not going anywhere.”

When Kuroo looked over at Kenma, he found him looking back with an inscrutable expression. “What?”

“I’m trying to decide whether to kiss you or hit you,” Kenma said flatly. 

Some of the tension dissipated. “You can do both if it would make you feel better,” Kuroo smiled. 

He protested with a little “hey!” when a solid fist punched into his bicep, but then Kenma was kissing his palm and he felt what little anger he had been nurturing fade away. “We’ll get there, kitten. No one gets it right all the time.”

They continued to walk. Behind them, some of the protesters had begun chanting. Kuroo could see the waving signs and fists pumping in the air in his mind’s eye, and over his shoulder when he glanced to see for himself. When the shouts began, Kenma tugged his hand away and jammed it in his hoodie pocket to join its twin, eyes blown wide. 

Kuroo wasn’t entirely sure what Kenma had expected out of a protest, but he tried to be understanding.

“Ho hum,” he said, then stuck his hand in Kenma’s hoodie pocket. Kenma looked over, startled. 

“What are you doing?”

“I told you I wasn’t letting you go. Walking with my arm around you might be awkward, even if we’re walking slow. It’s up to you, really.”

Kenma’s fingers shifted. He looked away, but soon he was grasping Kuroo’s hand inside his pocket as if it was the most normal thing in the world. They continued walking.

Halfway to the tourist ward, Bokuto and Akaashi fell into step beside them. “Kenma, are you doing well?” Akaashi asked in a soft voice.

Kenma shrugged. “As well as can be expected.”

Bokuto stepped in front of them and started walking backwards so he could keep them all in view as he cheered. “This is great! Look at all these people!”

“I would rather not,” Kenma said.

Bokuto did not seem perturbed. “I can’t believe so many people showed up. This is so awesome. Noya even promised we’d go get drinks after! And you don’t have to make ‘em for once, Kenma!” He boomed a cheerful laugh, punching Kenma playfully in the shoulder. Kenma gave Kuroo a look that clearly screamed “help, your friend is moderately insane and he’s freaking me out a little bit.”

Surprisingly, it was Akaashi that came to the rescue. “We’re all very excited, Koutarou,” he said, stepping forward and smoothly wrapping an arm around Bokuto’s shoulders to turn him facing the right way. “Drinks would be very agreeable after so long a walk.”

“Right??” Bokuto exclaimed. “That little guy is the best! Uh, but don’t tell him I called him little. I think he’s sensitive about that kind of thing and I don’t want him to get offended or anything. Actually, let’s just pretend I didn’t say anything.” He paused, then continued with renewed vigor. “This is _awesome!_ ” 

Bokuto and Akaashi drifted away, swallowed back into the group in front of them. Akaashi glanced over his shoulder at Kenma with a serene smile. Kenma returned a grateful look of his own.

They walked. Down one of the main streets, crossing yet another intersection, continuing on. Gradually the landscape of buildings became more familiar to Kuroo.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, pointing. “There’s my station for work. Exactly 56 minutes from your apartment, if you were curious.”

Kenma followed the line of his finger with his eyes. “Are we going to be close to your work building?”

“If I understood Suga right, we’re going to walk right by it. You’ll be able to see the magical place where I work. Aren’t you thrilled?”

“Thrilled might be overstating it,” Kenma said, but his voice was interested. “This is my first time to the Patrician District. It’s very…” He paused, looking for the right word. “Clean.”

“Ah, yeah. Especially this part of town, they work hard to keep it maintained. Since this is usually people’s first glimpse of Cosmotropolis, they want to make sure we give a good first impression. That’s why they make us wear the ties and everything at work. And why I got in so much trouble when somebody decided to decorate my neck like a bruised Christmas tree.”

As he hoped, this earned a delicate flush of Kenma’s cheeks. “I like your neck,” he mumbled.

“As established. And also as established, I _love_ that you love my neck, kitten. You can love my neck anytime you want.”

“So embarrassing.” 

“Just being honest.”

Ten more minutes of walking, and they were in front of the tourist bureau. Kenma gazed up at the pristine, smooth white exterior of the building peppered with giant plate glass windows. A ship was coming in to land as they watched, entering the expansive docks that were mostly hidden by the building. It was easy to see that inside was bustling with activity, offworlders streaming in from any number of ships, many stopping at the tourism desk before heading out. 

“If you squint, you can see my station,” Kuroo said. He leaned his head down a bit and pointed. “Mine is on the end there, to the left. Where the tall guy with the immaculate hair is standing. See it?”

Kenma leaned forward and peered through the glass. They had taken a few more steps towards the building so it was easier to see inside. “I like this,” he said. “I like being able to see it.”

“I do spend a lot of time there. I guess it’s easier to put all my stories into perspective when you can actually see the spot, huh?”

Kenma nodded. “Now I can picture it when I think of you when you’re at work.”

“What!” Kuroo slapped a hand to his chest, right over his heart. “Kenma, you can’t just say things like that! You think about me being at work? When I’m at work?”

Kenma tugged the strings of his hood to close it further, effectively making his face invisible to Kuroo. “I think about you a lot,” he said in a quiet voice. “All the time.”

If they hadn’t been in the middle of a busy street engaging in a massive protest, Kuroo might have done something embarrassing. As it was, he was having a hard time remaining upright with such a protestation hanging in the air between them. He tugged Kenma closer with the hand in his pocket and kissed the top of his head. It was a remarkably tame gesture compared to what he _wanted_ to do, which was to sweep Kenma in his arms, tilt him backwards, and kiss him senseless like they were in a bad romantic comedy. 

“If it makes you feel any better,” he said when he had finally regained some control over himself, “I think about you all the time too.”

The moment, which felt unexpectedly significant, passed as they finished touring by the bureau and made a sharp right onto the next street. The chanting continued behind them, and they had drawn a lot of notice from the offworlders coming out of the tourist bureau, as hoped. It may not be the best first impression for a person coming to a city for the first time, but if it got people involved, or hell, even interested, it was worth it. The irrational fear Kuroo had been harboring that Ukai would come barging out of the bureau to scold them all faded the further away they got, much to his relief. 

They made it halfway down the next set of main streets, gaining momentum, when they met their first pocket of resistance. Blocking the street in front of them was a group of about 50 people sporting their own signs, cheerful things like “Robots go back to Junktown” and “Keep Patrician clean.” The march was headed right for them, and Kuroo wondered if Suga was planning to alter course. From the looks of it, they would march right through them, which Kuroo wondered was wise. 

Kuroo felt Kenma tense beside him as he caught sight of the counter-protest. “Kuro…” 

“I know,” he said quietly. “Things are about to get a little hectic. Just stay close to me, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.” He pulled their linked hands from Kenma’s pocket and tugged so that they were walking shoulder-to-shoulder. Meanwhile he tightened his grip on Kenma’s hand. No matter what, he wasn’t going to let them get parted. That would be the worst kind of disaster. 

The first of their line hit the robophobe group. The shouting and jeering increased, but that seemed to be the extent of it. Then it was Kuroo and Kenma’s turn. Keeping their hands squeezed together, they maneuvered through the robophobe crowd. There was shouting on every side of them as they pushed forward. Kuroo did his level best not to touch anybody; he didn’t want to incite some kind of riot with someone claiming he pushed them or something like that. 

The crowd got thicker the further they walked. Someone smacked Kuroo in the face with a sign as he strode past—accidentally, he hoped. Kenma ducked down with quick reflexes to avoid being hit himself. The noise was a cacophony of hate pressing in on all sides. It got louder the deeper they got, and Kenma pressed his free hand over his ear within his hood.

“Just a little further,” Kuroo said, whether to reassure himself or Kenma, he wasn’t sure. He thought he could see the end of the line a handful of meters ahead. 

Someone jostled Kenma, shoving him into Kuroo’s side. Kenma looked up at him with terrified eyes. Kuroo switched hands, holding Kenma’s hand in front of himself as he wrapped his other arm around his shoulders and held him close. A fierce protective instinct was raging inside him. No one would hurt Kenma. He wouldn’t let it happen. He _would not_ let it happen.

And then they were through. The dissipated crowd filtered off behind them and Kuroo exhaled a noisy sigh of relief. “Well, that was bracing,” he said with his normal cheerful voice. Then, with slight concern, “Are you okay?”

Kenma was pressed tight against Kuroo’s side, his face nearly hidden against the side of Kuroo’s chest. Kuroo squeezed his arm around him. “Kenma?”

“I’m okay,” Kenma said at last. Glancing around to see that they were relatively free of people, he relaxed and let himself uncurl from Kuroo’s side. “I’m okay,” he said again, like he was trying to convince himself. 

Kuroo dropped his arm from Kenma’s shoulders and switched hands again so once more they were swinging between them. “I might have slightly bad news.”

Kenma looked up at him, his mouth compressed into a thin line. Bad news did not appear to be even remotely what he was hoping for.

“If they’re out here, we can bet they will be waiting for us at the government building. I have a feeling this was just the beginning. The problem with spreading the word is that, well, the word is spread.” 

“You really think so?”

“I’m just guessing, but yeah. It seems logical that their biggest anti-protest would be the site where we’re all going to gather the hardest. But it’s going to be okay, alright? I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He felt like he had said it a hundred times, but it bore repeating. He could only hope this whole thing remained peaceful. He glanced over his shoulder. It was hard to tell through the crowd, but it looked like they had passed the robophobes without any trouble. He desperately hoped it stayed that way.

They walked. 

“You know, I see these protests all the time when I’m on my way home from work. Smaller, of course, but still. I never actually thought I would be part of one of them.”

“Are you sorry you came?”

“The opposite, actually. It feels good to do something. It feels good to be part of something bigger than myself. And most importantly, it feels good to fight for something that I care a lot about.” He paused, squeezing Kenma’s hand and glancing over at him. “For a number of reasons.”

Kenma looked over and met Kuroo’s eyes, almost smiling. “You’re the sappiest person I know.”

“You love it, though.”

“Mm.” It was a noncommittal sound, but Kenma was as close to a real smile as he would get in these uncomfortable circumstances. 

“So, Akaashi and Bokuto. Let’s sort _that_ one out. You know Akaashi pretty well, right? I love Bo but I’ve never seen more of an opposites attract kind of situation. How does he deal?”

“He told me he loves him,” was the calm response.

Kuroo choked. “He _what?_ ” If he had said it, he definitely hadn’t said it to Bokuto. Kuroo’s coil would have lit up like a fireworks show for hours on end. 

Kenma shrugged. “He said that despite or because of his enthusiasm, he genuinely cares about people. Sometimes to the point of too much.” Well that much was true. “I know I don’t know Bokuto very well, but I think Keiji is the perfect person to handle him.”

“I wouldn’t say he needs a handler, exactly,” Kuroo said thoughtfully. “But I guess sometimes he can be a bit much. Has Akaashi had to deal with his lows yet?”

“Mm. He managed to swing him back. He didn’t tell me how.”

“Now _that_ is impressive. Not a lot of people are willing to deal with his mood swings, despite the other damn good things about him. Good. I’m really happy they found each other.”

“I am too,” Kenma said, an uncharacteristic warmth to his voice. “I think they are good together.”

“Kind of like us, huh?” Kuroo grinned. Kenma rolled his eyes and smiled.

They were getting close to the government building. Two more blocks and they would turn the corner that landed them at their final destination. One more block forward, and Kuroo thought he heard yelling. He couldn’t tell if it was coming from the enthusiastic crowd behind him or an equally enthusiastic—though for slightly different reasons—crowd ahead of them. He really hoped it was the former.

One more block, then the final turn. Kuroo’s heart dropped.

The crowd was _massive_. Not as massive as theirs, for sure, but easily a couple hundred strong. The previous group had just been a taste, and this one looked out for blood. They were hurling insults, displaying hateful signs, angrily waving closed fists in the air. 

Even more alarming was the waiting line of police officers flanking both the robophobes and the government building. They were armed with riot shields and stern faces. Kuroo didn’t like that one bit.

“Sometimes I hate being right,” Kuroo said. He whipped out his coil, hastily dialed Suga. He knew he would never catch up to him on foot in time. 

“Kuroo?” Suga’s voice echoed from the screen. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh, I think that much is obvious, Suga. Do we have like, a plan for this or anything?”

“Our plan stays the same. We head to the government building and do a stand-in until someone acknowledges us. We ignore the robophobes as much as we can. Most of all, we keep it peaceful. That is most important, especially since we’ve got police attention.”

“Got it. As long as you’re prepared for this.”

“As prepared as we can be. Everything will be fine, Kuroo. Keep the faith.” Suga hung up and Kuroo dropped his coil arm. “Well, you heard him,” he said to Kenma. “Keeping the faith, starting now.”

“…Right.”

The protestors flowed around the robophobe protesters, filling in between police blockades. Their group was large enough to spread down the street, filling the sidewalks and street with a throng of people. The probot protesters shouted their own chants, trying their level best to drown out the robophobes in volume. What resulted was an ear-splitting jumble of noise on all sides. 

Kuroo tried to lead them to as empty a spot as they could find, but they were uncomfortably close to the nearest line of robophobes and police. He glanced around them, trying to find a better spot but failing in the face of all those people. 

“I guess this is where we camp out,” he said as cheerfully as he could manage.

Kenma was skittish next to him, shifting his weight from one foot to another. “I don’t like this. Why are the police here?”

“I’m sure it’s just a precaution in case things get out of hand. Which they’re not going to. Try not to worry.”

“Telling me not to worry in this situation is like telling a human not to breathe,” Kenma grumbled. 

Kuroo forced a laugh. “You can do it, kitten. I believe in you.”

The crowd was getting restless. He could feel the tension thick in the air around them as robophobes infiltrated the probot ranks, waving their signs and screaming in the faces of probot protesters. The probots screamed right back, waving their own signs against them. 

Later, Kuroo wouldn’t be able to say who started it. He saw someone a few lines down throw a punch, and it seemed like after that, all hell broke loose. Suddenly everyone around them was moving, shouting, punching and being punched. All semblance of a peaceful protest disappeared in the violence of an angry mob. 

And it was getting closer to where they stood.

“Oh shit. Shit, _shit_ ,” Kuroo said emphatically. He spun to face Kenma, grabbing both of his hands. “Don’t let go of me. No matter what happens, okay? Don’t let go.”

Kenma’s wide eyes and parted lips mirrored the horrified expression Kuroo knew was on his own face. He stepped forward, burying his face against Kuroo’s chest. Around them the police were getting involved. He could see them forcing people to the ground, trying to establish order. Kenma clung to him, desperate.

And then someone tugged him away. 

The robophobe whipped Kenma around to face him, snarling in his face. Kenma froze, a deer in headlights, as the man balled a fist and swung through the air. Only a hand was there to block him. 

“Fuck you, get away from him!” Kuroo shouted. He wound up for his own punch, his fist landing solidly to crack against the man’s jaw. His head snapped to the side and he slumped down to the ground. Immediately, three of his comrades joined the fray.

Kenma skittered behind Kuroo, fisting his hands in Kuroo’s t-shirt to make sure they didn’t get separated. 

Kuroo dropped to a fighting stance. This would be tough. They wanted blood, and they were damn sure going to get it. He dodged the first two blows, but the third connected solidly with his sternum. He folded in on himself, gasping for air. White hot rage burned in his veins and he forced himself upright, throwing himself forward and into the fight with fists swinging.

He didn’t register the voice shouting for him to halt behind him. Hands grabbed at his left arm, spinning him to face the police officer in full riot gear. Kenma grabbed his other arm, clinging desperately as the police officer shouted in his face. Kuroo’s head jerked to the side as one of the robophobes used the distraction to whip him in the side of his head. Other officers were pulling two of them away. 

Kuroo struggled against the police officer’s iron grip. “Fucking—let me go! Let me go!” He knew fighting would only get him in more trouble, but he looked over at Kenma’s terrified face and only fought harder. 

The remaining robophobe from the fight wrapped his arms around Kenma’s waist and pulled hard. Kenma writhed in his arms, kicking wildly as he was lifted from the ground, and Kuroo quickly grabbed his hand which had slipped from his sleeve. “Kenma! Fucking let me go! Kenma!”

The police officer shouted something that was lost in the din of the fighting and tugged him backwards. His hand slipped until just their fingertips were touching, and then Kenma was out of reach, arm still extended and grabbing wildly for him. 

“Kuro!” he screamed, struggling like an animal caught in a trap. “Kuro!” 

“Kenma!” He threw his elbow backward in a last-ditch effort to get free, and the officer swore behind him. Suddenly he felt a burst of electricity spark through him, starting at the base of his spine and blooming outward across his back. Was that a taser? The world went fuzzy, and still he struggled. The electricity swam over him again, this time at the base of his neck. The last thing he could do was shout Kenma’s name in a futile gesture before the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes, I'm sorry. Ending on a cliffhanger is such a dick move, but I will post again on Friday so you won't have to wait too long. We're reaching the end! One more chapter, then a short epilogue. I can't believe it's almost over.
> 
> I'm sorry this is late! Holidays and all that. I hope you had a good holiday if that's your thing.
> 
> Thank you, thank you, and thank you for all of your support!
> 
>  
> 
> [aazeris.tumblr.com](http://aazeris.tumblr.com)


	10. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo wakes up in an unexpected place, and the aftermath of the protest is truly felt. aka reunions and confessions

Kuroo came to with the slow, dazed fog of someone who had been unconscious for a long time. He was lying on something hard, limbs splayed askew. His head was pounding, as was the rest of his body—especially the back of his neck and his lower back. Shivering, he could still feel the electric shock of the taser running through him in memory.

Wait. Taser. Electric shock. Police, robophobes, protest, it all came back to him in a rush. With a loud, gasping inhalation of air he flew up, heedless of the way his body screamed in agony. 

“Kenma! Kenma?” 

Now that his eyes were open, he could take stock of his surroundings. Utter disbelief flowed through him. He was in a jail cell. The walls were pristine white, plastic looking, and an impenetrable transparent shield with charming holographic bars to complete the look covered the doorway, which took up one wall. The “bed” Kuroo was sitting on could barely be called so, just a metal sheet that extended from the wall. There was a toilet tastefully hidden behind a low partition and otherwise, the cell was empty.

Kuroo was trying not to panic. Kuroo was panicking.

Hastily he patted himself down. His pockets were empty, wallet gone. Even more distressing, his coil had been removed from his wrist. No way to contact the outside world. No way to find out if Kenma was okay. The last he had seen of Kenma, he had been being dragged away by his waist. Icy cold fear slithered down Kuroo’s spine. He had to be okay, right? He _had_ to be. 

He jumped to his feet. His entire body screamed in protest. He ran questioning hands over himself, felt the tenderness in his jaw. Pulling his t-shirt up, he saw a kaleidoscope of bruises across his ribs and stomach. No wonder his skin and bones felt like they were on fire. He knew the fighting had been brutal, but he had no idea he had gotten so jacked up in the process. Adrenaline, he guessed.

Kuroo had to get out of here. He had to find out if Kenma was okay. Kenma, Bokuto, Suga… all of them. He had to know.

Wincing, he hobbled over to the cell door and started banging on it. When that didn’t immediately bring someone rushing to his attention, he started shouting at the top of his lungs. He screamed until he went hoarse, pounded until his knuckles were bloody. Still no one came.

Okay. Okay, that wasn’t working. _Think, Kuroo, think._ Only he couldn’t. All he could think about was the blood rushing to his head, making him dizzy, and the fear surging through his veins. All he could think was _Kenma, Kenma, Kenma._

He slumped onto the bed, leaning forward and propping his head in his hands. “I promised him,” he whimpered, embarrassingly close to tears. He could still feel the moment Kenma’s fingertips had slipped from his grasp. “I promised him I wouldn’t let anything happen to him.”

And now he was in a fucking jail cell. Despair and straight up anger warred within him. Sure, he had clocked that one police officer in the jaw, and the other one he had elbowed in the sternum, but that didn’t warrant jail time, did it? The protest had been a mess of punches and violence. He vaguely wondered how many of his fellow protesters—and the robophobe protesters—were in neighboring cells. 

Not that it mattered. Nothing mattered but getting the hell out of here.

So shouting didn’t work. Banging didn’t work. How did he attract attention to himself? Injuring himself further seemed counterproductive, and he wasn’t even convinced anyone would notice until they did rounds anyway.

Wait, rounds. They did rounds, right? It had been maybe an hour since he woke up—time was hard to judge in his panic—so surely someone had to come eventually, right? Maybe even soon. He just had to be patient.

Ha, patient. Right.

He scooted until his back was against the wall and curled in on himself, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around them. Even if they didn’t do rounds, they had to feed him eventually, right? He was suddenly starving. How long had he been out? Did the others know where he was? Did anyone know? Did _Kenma_ know? What if Kenma thought he had just bailed?

No, Kenma knew better. He hoped to god Kenma knew better.

His head dropped to his knees. Kuroo had been in a lot of shit situations, but as shit situations went, this one definitely took the cake.

He was really wishing for a stim pack right about now. Shit, even an over the counter pain pill would do the trick. His breath was labored and his whole body hurt. He knew the way he was sitting wasn’t helping, but despair was setting in and he found that really, he didn’t care all that much.

He just wanted to know if everyone was okay.

How was he going to get out of here?

Was Kenma waiting for him? Was Kenma worried out of his mind? Was Kenma okay?

Time passed. He wasn’t aware of it. He had no idea how much time was going by. He was lost in an endless train of circular thoughts and worries.

And then a guard walked by. 

Kuroo had his head turned towards the door as it rested on his knees, hoping for this opportunity. When he saw the guard sauntering past, he jumped to his feet and, with sheer force of will, knocked politely instead of banging like a lunatic.

The guard turned, raised an eyebrow, and walked over. He pressed a button on a console next to the door and a speaker crackled to life.

“Finally awake?” the guard asked.

Kuroo bit back the sarcastic reply that was heavy on his tongue. “Please,” he said, his palm and fingers splayed across the force field. “I need to know if my friends are okay. Do you know anything about them?”

“I don’t know your friends. Can’t really say one way or another. Sorry.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. His finger left the console and he made to start walking away.

Kuroo panicked, banging hard on the force field. “Wait! Wait!!”

The guard heaved an overblown sigh and pressed the comm button again. “What is it?”

“Don’t I get a phone call?”

“This isn’t a vid, kiddo,” the guard laughed. “What you get is: not a damn thing.”

“How will anyone know I’m here?”

“They can ask at the front desk. You’re lucky, your bail is pretty low. This is just holding, so they’re not officially charging you with anything yet. If your friends know you’re here, maybe they can scrape it together. If you’re lucky.” 

Despair. Despair, despair, despair. Kuroo couldn’t even think of anything else to ask beyond a weak, “I really can’t call anyone? Just one person. Just a message, anything. I’m not even asking for my coil. I just want to send one message out.”

The guard visibly hesitated. Maybe it was Kuroo’s pathetic expression. Maybe it was the series of bruises he was sporting that made it clear he hadn’t been the winner of any fight he’d been in. Whatever it was, the guard relented, pulling out his coil. “Name and message.”

“Oh thank god,” Kuroo breathed. “Thank you, seriously, thank you.”

Patience was visibly wilting. “Name and message.”

Kuroo quickly ran over his options. He could message Kenma; Kenma was top of mind. But he wasn’t sure Kenma could do anything about this situation. He was mild mannered to a painful degree, and Kuroo wasn’t sure he would fight anybody with the same enthusiasm as—

“Bokuto Koutarou. Message: Bo, it’s Kuroo. I’m in jail. Low bail. Please get me out of here. Let me know everyone’s okay. No coil, come see me. If Kenma—if you’re with Kenma, let him know I’ll be with him soon.”

The guard flicked his fingers over the display and put his coil away. “That was your one shot. I’m not going to do this again.”

“Yeah… yeah, of course. I won’t ask again. Thank you.”

Shutting down the comm system again, the guard continued his patrol. Kuroo walked back over to the bed and sunk down on it. Well, that had gone better than expected at least. He felt a ribbon of guilt over not going to Kenma first, but he hoped he would understand. Now all he could do was wait.

So he waited. He couldn’t keep track of time, but it felt like a damn long time until he was even fed. The food reminded him of the bland hospital fare he had to suffer through when he had been hospitalized after an unfortunate hit and run in his teenage years. But he felt at least a little renewed vigor afterwards. 

And Bokuto would come for him. He believed it, even though it seemed to be taking a long time.

His body ached and groaned, his injuries going untreated for too long. If he asked, would they send a medic? He didn’t suppose so. Nothing seemed life threatening, just damn painful. He didn’t suppose they handed out free pain meds to whoever asked and he didn’t want to take his chances with the guard who had so generously helped him already. 

He slept. Really, there wasn’t much else he could do.

He was awakened by a booming, panicked voice coming over the comm. “Kuroo!!”

His eyes flew open and he looked over at the door fast enough to give himself whiplash. Sure enough, there Bokuto stood, wringing his hands like an overwrought grandmother. He looked awful. The bags under his eyes were prominent and his hair wasn’t even gelled up like usual. His bare arms held their own wandering map of bruises, but aside from all this, he was up and, most importantly, here.

Kuroo forced himself off the bed, wincing, and hurried over to the door. “I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you, man. You look like shit.”

“Look who’s talking,” Bokuto replied with a faint laugh. 

Pleasantries out of the way, Kuroo pressed his hands to the force field. “Kenma?”

“He’s okay.” 

Kuroo had never felt such a sense of relief. He slumped forward, his head thunking against the force field. “Thank god. Everyone else?”

“Everyone’s fine. It looks like you got the worst of it. You should know better than to take on the damn cops, of all people.” Bokuto frowned, twisting his fingers. 

“I got caught up in the moment, I guess.” Kuroo sighed, raised his head. “Please tell me you’re here to bust me out.”

The characteristic grin Kuroo had come to know and love made a bright appearance. “I’m here to bust you out! We all got together and, well, it wasn’t _too_ bad. But you’re gonna owe a lot of people, man.” He laughed, a booming noise. His previous melancholy faded in the face of Kuroo’s imminent release. “This kind officer is gonna lead you out.”

The kind officer in question was in fact the same officer who had helped him get the message out. He tapped against the console and the force field dissipated with a whooshing sound. Kuroo suddenly found himself with an armful of Bokuto, who was squeezing him hard enough to make all his aching muscles cry out. 

“Oh god, stop,” he wheezed. “I’m hurt to shit. Careful with the goods.”

Bokuto let him go and looked at him with another worried expression. “Hospital?”

“Kenma first.”

“We could have Kenma meet us there. I doubt he took our advice and went to sleep. He’s been with the rest of us, pacing until he wore a hole in the damn floor. I didn’t know that kid could get so riled up.” 

They were walking to the front desk, Kuroo more hobbling than doing any actual walking. A hospital did sound pretty good. He could get patched up and, as an added bonus, get a stim. Every instinct was screaming for him to go straight to Kenma’s, but…

“I need to call Kenma. Then we’ll decide, okay?”

They went through the administrative motions of arranging Kuroo’s release. He was given his belongings back and, with a warning to stay out of trouble in the future, they were released out into the street. Kuroo sidestepped the front of the plate glass doors and slumped against the building wall, immediately pulling his coil out and dialing Kenma.

It only took two rings for Kenma to pick up. He sounded completely wasted with exhaustion, but cautiously tentative as he whispered, “Kuro?”

“It’s me, kitten,” Kuroo exhaled, relief flowing through him in a wave. “Are you okay? Is everything okay?”

“Are you out?”

“Bo just came to get me. We’re on the sidewalk outside the station.”

“Then I’m okay,” Kenma breathed. “Kuro, I—“

“I need to see you,” Kuroo interrupted. “Like, yesterday. I need to see for myself, okay? We’re headed to the hospital—“

“What—“

“—just for some minor stuff. Don’t worry, okay? Everything’s going to be fine now. Do you think you can meet us there?”

There was shuffling, the sound of clothes being pulled hastily on. “I’ll be there. Which hospital?”

Kuroo gave him directions. “We’re headed there right now. It’ll take you 45 minutes, right?”

“Yes. I’m leaving now.” Kuroo heard a door slam and the sound of quick walking. “Kuro, I’m… I’m glad you’re okay. I just… I needed… I need…”

“Whatever you need, you’re getting it. I promise. Whatever I can do.” Kuroo’s heart clenched. The last thing he wanted to do was hang up, but Boktuo was getting restless beside him, bouncing from one foot to the other like a child at a theme park. “I have to go, okay? I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The connection went dead, and Kuroo’s body withered against the wall. He had never felt so much relief in his entire goddamn life. “Okay. Okay, we can go.”

\---

They took a cab to the hospital, Bokuto not willing to let his friend walk the 20 minutes it would have taken to get there in his condition. Kuroo spent nearly the entire ride on his coil, making calls to let everyone know he was alright and a free man. Mama Kuroo was first. She immediately burst into tears and promised to make him all his favorite dishes for at least a week. After that was Suga, whose relief was palpable since he felt no small amount of guilt for roping Kuroo into the protest in the first place. Then Ukai, to let him know Kuroo would be taking some time off to heal (mind _and_ body, if Kuroo was being entirely honest, but he used all the fancy bruises as his excuse).

When they got to the hospital, Bokuto paid for the cab. Kuroo protested feebly; they had already done so much paying his bail. But Bokuto was insistent, and his insistence could not be denied. Kuroo was too tired to try. If he was being completely honest with himself, now that he was up and moving about, he was feeling damn dizzy. It turned out he had spent two days in the cell, and he could only remember eating once in all that time. His throat felt sticky and sore. 

Bokuto took care of all the paperwork, Kuroo following him like a ghost. He was feeling infinitely grateful to have his friend with him. Bokuto was a get-shit-done kind of man with a single-mindedness that Kuroo really needed right about now. They only had to wait in the urgent care waiting room for about fifteen minutes before they were led back to a bed that was cordoned off by a series of pastel blue curtains. 

“You want me to stay while they check you out?” Bokuto asked.

Kuroo shook his head. “Probably better if you don’t. I’ll message you when they’re done?”

“Yeah. I’ll go sit in the waiting room. I could use some coffee before Akaashi gets here.”

“Akaashi is coming to the hospital?” 

“Yeah. He should be here soon.” 

Kuroo suspected this was more for Bokuto’s benefit than his own, but he felt grateful all the same.

A series of nurses and one doctor rotated through to see him, assessing his injuries and coming up with a treatment plan. Most everything would heal on its own without a lot of outside interference, but of concern were his ribs. He was going to have to get an x-ray to see if any of them were broken, which explained the hitches in his breath and the constant ache in his chest. Most immediately, they slapped an IV on him to make sure he replenished the fluids he was missing from his stay in the cell. When they slid an oxygen tube over his ears and placed it in his nose, he almost refused.

“Everyone’s making an awful big fuss,” he groused. “I’m not dying or anything, right?”

The nurse was not impressed by his bravado.

The parade of nurses had finally died down. Kuroo was lying on his back, staring up at the smooth white of the ceiling and letting his mind drift over the past few days. Jail time. Not the most impressive thing he could add to his resume, but at least it would make for a good story when everything was said and done. That was about the only good thing he could think of. 

Quietly, the curtain rustled. Kuroo looked over, expecting another nurse, but instead Bokuto bounded into the space, sporting a thousand-watt smile. Akaashi calmly followed after him, a soft admonishment of “remember your volume, Koutarou” on his lips. 

“We’ve got a surprise for you!” Bokuto exclaimed at only half his usual decibel. An impressive feat. Akaashi was having a good influence on him. 

“Is it cake? I could really go for some cake right about now. Or maybe ramen.”

Bokuto boomed out a laugh. Akaashi pressed a hand to his forehead at Bokuto’s return to full volume. “Not quite!” 

The curtain rustled again, and this time a two-toned head poked through. Kenma’s gold eyes were wide with emotion, his lips open in a soft “o.” 

“Much better than cake,” Kuroo said breathlessly. 

Everyone knew that Kenma was not one for excessive displays of any emotion. That didn’t stop him from nearly running into the space and throwing himself at Kuroo, earning himself a full-body wince and a wheezed, “Watch the ribs, kitten.” He pulled back immediately, eyes widening further. 

Kenma seemed to get ahold of himself, taking a step back. Before he could get too far away, Kuroo snatched his hand and tugged him to stand right next to the bed.

“We’ll give you some privacy,” Akaashi said mildly. He took Bokuto by the arm and led him away, past the curtains, and the silence was palpable in their wake.

Kuroo looked up at Kenma with a soft smile. He had never felt such relief to see a person. Kenma was well and whole before him, and with determination he fought to suppress images of Kenma being dragged away, screaming his name in terror. “I’m really happy to see you. Sorry I look like such a tube monster.”

“Are you okay?” Kenma asked in a small voice. Since his earlier display had caused such pain, he seemed reticent to engage in any further displays of affection. Kuroo would not let his hand go regardless.

“I’m going to have to get an x-ray in a bit. They’re worried I might have a broken rib or two. The oxygen is for that; I’m a little on the wheezy side. And this,” he lifted his IV arm and jiggled the tube, “is just to get some fluids in me. So all things considered, I’m okay. No need to worry.”

“I do worry,” Kenma bit out. His face was conflicted, his fingers jittery in Kuroo’s hold. He looked torn between rushing forward and holding himself back. Kuroo knew the feeling. “I have been… I worried so much. You were gone and for a while no one knew where you were and then Bokuto got your message and…”

Kuroo lifted Kenma’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “I’m sorry I worried you so much.”

“No, I just… I’m just…” Kenma bit his bottom lip, and Kuroo was shocked to see a sheen of tears in his bright gold eyes. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” he managed finally, one eye spilling over into a slide of tears down his pale cheek.

“Oh, kitten,” Kuroo said softly. He let go of Kenma’s hand to reach up and swipe the tears away with his thumb. “You’re breaking my heart here. I was worried about you too. The last I saw you, you were being dragged away. What happened?”

Kenma grabbed Kuroo’s hand in both of his own, pressing their hands to his cheek before dropping them to clutch against his chest. “It’s kind of a blur,” he admitted. “Someone got ahold of me. I… I fought him as much as I could. Then there was a second man and a woman and they…” He paused. “It’s better to show you.”

He let go of Kuroo’s hand and leaned over, tugging on one pants leg. Kuroo noticed for the first time that instead of his usual casual jeans he was wearing loose-fitting athletic pants. Kenma pulled his pants leg up to his mid-thigh, and Kuroo had to bite back the slew of curses that instantly rose to his lips. Kenma’s thigh was marred by a dark black line that ran from just above his knee to halfway around his mid-thigh. The circuitry was damaged, poking away from the skin in some places. 

“It hurts,” Kenma admitted. “I had to go see an android specialist to repair the bone. That’s why it’s so dark. She had to cut me open to get to it. I still have to go in for repair work over the next few days, but my self repair will help too.”

“Kenma,” Kuroo choked out. He felt his own tears springing to the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I promised nothing would happen… I promised I would never let go of you. This is my fault. You must be so pissed at me.”

Kenma dropped his pants leg and gave Kuroo his sternest look. “This is _not_ your fault,” he said forcefully. “Kuro, how can you think any of this is your fault? We got caught up in a riot. You went to _jail_ for me. How could you… how could you think I’d be anything but grateful?”

Kuroo blinked back his tears, scrubbing at his eyes with one hand. “I promised,” he said weakly, brought down a few notches by Kenma’s intensity. 

“And you did everything you could to keep that promise. Kuro, none of this is your fault. None of it.”

That did it. The tears flowed freely now. Kuroo hadn’t known how much guilt he had been harboring until he was absolved from it. “Just so you know,” he sobbed out, “this is totally manly crying. 

Kenma gave him his own watery smile. “The manliest,” he agreed.

Kenma was silent and let Kuroo cry it out, their joined hands the only point of contact. After a few minutes, Kuroo got himself under control. He wiped his face with the sheet of the bed and looked up at Kenma with a weak smile. “This isn’t exactly the way I pictured our reunion.”

“What did you expect?”

“I was going to show up at your house, sweep you into my arms, and kiss you senseless. A hospital definitely wasn’t involved.”

“I don’t know if I can kiss you with the oxygen tube in the way, but I can try.”

“I’ll be patient,” Kuroo assured him. “Just you being here is enough. God, I was so scared. I thought I would never see you again. I thought something horrible had happened to you, or that you were okay and wouldn’t want to see me. Blamed me, or something. I just…” He trailed off, frowning. “I worried. Time in a cell gives you a lot of time for introspection.”

“Too much time,” Kenma said. He pulled his hand away, fidgeting nervously. “How much pain are you in?”

“They gave me a stim. I think there’s some creative pain meds in the drip too. All things considered, I could feel a lot worse.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Kuroo tilted his head thoughtfully. “Five out of ten?”

Kenma seemed to see this as an acceptable answer. He walked to Kuroo’s left side, the side free of the IV tubing, and looked nervous for a moment. Kuroo watched him with a raised eyebrow. Now that he was paying attention, he could see the slight limp Kenma was sporting. Both eyebrows raised at once when Kenma gingerly climbed onto the bed next to him. He laid down, careful not to jostle Kuroo too much, to stretch next to him. It was a tight fit; the bed wasn’t big to begin with, let alone for two people. Kuroo didn’t mind the squeeze, not when he could slip his arm under Kenma’s shoulders and tug him tightly against his side. Kenma wrapped an arm around his stomach, careful not to touch anywhere near Kuroo’s ribs, and nestled in close.

“I missed you so much, kitten,” Kuroo said with a fond smile, pressing a kiss to the top of Kenma’s head. “You have no idea.”

“I have an idea. I missed you too.”

\---

The nurse looked thoroughly disapproving when she came in to find Kenma in Kuroo’s bed. “Those beds are made for one,” she said with a stern look. Kenma sheepishly got out of bed and stood next to it. He notably had taken Kuroo’s hand and held it with stubborn determination until she said, “I’m here to take Mr. Kuroo in for x-rays.”

“Can I come with him?” Kenma asked, voice unusually strong. Unfortunately, it didn’t do any good.

“I’m sorry, no visitors are allowed in there. You can feel free to wait here or join your friends in the waiting room.”

Kenma turned his attention to Kuroo, worrying his bottom lip. Kuroo glanced at the nurse. “Can we have a second?”

She made a frustrated noise, but surprisingly stepped beyond the curtain. Kuroo looked up at Kenma, reached up and gently pulled his bottom lip from between his teeth. “You look worried. It’s just an x-ray. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Kenma said. He fidgeted his thumb over Kuroo’s fingers. 

“What’s wrong, kitten?”

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s bothering you, so it’s not stupid. What is it?”

Kenma was quiet for a long time, only gazing at Kuroo’s face with his eyes full of worry. “I feel like if I let you go, you’re going to disappear again,” he said at last.

Kuroo’s heart smashed into a hundred pieces. “I promise I’m not going anywhere, okay? As soon as they bring me back, I’ll let you know, if you go sit with Bokuto and Akaashi. I think you should, so they can take your mind off things. Okay?”

“I said it was stupid,” Kenma grumbled. He tried to pull his hand away but started in surprise when Kuroo held tight. 

“And I said it’s not. We’ve been through a lot the past few days. It’s to be expected that we’d be a little, uh, shaken about it.”

The nurse stepped back inside the curtain enclosure. “I’m sorry, but we really have to go now.”

Kuroo kissed the top of Kenma’s hand and let go. “Go to the waiting room. The second I’m out, I’ll message you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

\---

In the end, much to the relief of everyone involved, Kuroo only suffered major bruising but no breakage in his ribs. Considering the severity of the fights he had been in, the fact he escaped relatively unscathed was damn near a miracle. The doctor who came to release him said as much.

“What can I say? I’m a lucky guy.” He said this with a leer at Kenma, who rolled his eyes and ducked his head down to hide his face. 

Bokuto came storming in with Akaashi in tow. “Bro! They said you’re getting released!” 

“Yep. Once this drip finishes and I fill out some paperwork, I’m free to go.” He looked between the two of them, feeling his stomach clench with emotion again. “I… I’m really thankful to you guys. It’s going to be a hard debt to repay.”

“There is no debt,” said Akaashi. “You are our friend and we did what friends do.”

_You’re not going to cry, you’re not going to cry_. “Thanks. I think you guys can go. Kenma can get me home. Right?” He glanced at Kenma, who nodded. “Not that I’m kicking you out or anything.”

“It’s cool,” Bokuto said. He stepped forward and punched Kuroo in the shoulder, then seemed to realize what he had done (most likely from the full body shudder and “what the fuck, man” from Kuroo) and stumbled over himself to apologize.

“We should go,” Akaashi said with a roll of his eyes behind Bokuto. He took Bokuto by the arm and tugged. 

“I’ll check on you tomorrow. You going to be home or at Kenma’s?”

“I better go home. My mom’s been sick with worry. She might beat me up worse than those cops if I don’t go home tonight.”

Bokuto erupted into a boisterous laugh. “That’s Mama Kuroo! Tell her I said hi, okay?”

“Will do. Thanks again, guys. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The two took their leave, and Kenma stayed in place beside Kuroo’s bed. Kuroo shifted so he was facing him a little easier. “I have a request.”

Kenma raised an eyebrow.

“I’m serious when I say my mom will have a fit if I’m not home tonight. But I really want to be with you so… will you stay over tonight? I know it’s kind of awkward with my mom there but—“

“Yes.”

“What, really? I don’t have to bribe you or anything?”

Kenma’s gaze slid to the side. “I don’t want to leave you either.”

\---

Kuroo’s mother was, regrettably, working late that evening. Well, regrettably to her. Kuroo didn’t mind having the house to himself with Kenma. Kenma, who was looking around his apartment like it was a goddamn mansion.

“This is what Patrician apartments look like,” he said in awe. 

“You’re embarrassing me a little bit,” Kuroo replied with a laugh. “It’s not _that_ much nicer than yours. And, uh, excuse the mess. I wasn’t really expecting visitors when I left.” 

Kuroo led them down the hallway to his room. It was, as stated, a bit of a disaster. Clothes were scattered everywhere, the bed was unmade, and a mess of books were askew on his desk. Kenma walked in and surveyed everything, touring around and touching some things that he was focused on. Most notably, he stopped at the book pile. 

“You keep paper books?” he asked.

Kuroo rubbed the back of his neck. “I like the way paper smells.” Kenma smothered a laugh, and Kuroo squawked indignantly. “Hey! It’s not that much different than you and your handhelds. Don’t make fun of me.”

“Sorry,” Kenma said, still smiling. “I think it’s cute.”

Kuroo pressed a hand to his chest, over his heart. “Slaying me as always, kitten.”

“You always say that when I compliment you,” Kenma said. He walked over to the unmade bed and sat down. 

“It’s because you do it so rarely. I really ought to record the moments for future reference.” Kuroo sat down next to him and flopped over until his head was resting on Kenma’s shoulder. 

“Are you tired?”

“Mm. Yeah.”

“Will your…” Kenma glanced around the room. “Do you have a guest room?”

Kuroo’s head shot up and he gave Kenma a disbelieving stare. “Do you _want_ to stay in a guest room?”

“…No. But your mom will be home and…”

“She won’t care. Seriously, Kenma, she won’t. She already knows all about you. She’s a cool lady. You don’t have to worry.” Kuroo dropped his head back to its resting place and nuzzled there. “If you think I’m letting you more than ten feet from my side at any given moment, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“I didn’t think to bring any clothes with me.”

“Not a problem!” Kuroo said, pushing himself to stand and walk to the closet. “You can wear some of mine. They’ll be big on you, but that might be comfy anyway.”

Kenma flushed to the tips of his ears, earning him a tilt of the head and a questioning look. “It’s a little… intimate, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.

Kuroo laughed loudly. “Oh, kitten. If I wasn’t half high on pain meds and aching literally in every part of my body, I would show you what intimate really is.”

If anything, Kenma’s flush got deeper, but he surprisingly didn’t scold Kuroo for it. Kuroo found it absolutely adorable. He pulled a t-shirt from his closet and then dug around in his drawers for a pair of drawstring athletic pants. He tossed them over to Kenma. 

“The bathroom is—“

But Kenma was already stripping down, heedless of the way Kuroo’s jaw dropped to the floor. Kuroo was really, really regretting the sorry state his body was currently in. He got himself in check when Kenma pulled his pants down (oh god, commando again, was he really in check?) and he once again saw the slash of cauterized skin. 

“When’s your next repair appointment?”

Kenma glanced over after pulling the t-shirt over his head. It fell to mid-thigh and slipped over one shoulder. The sight of Kenma wearing his clothes was… well, it was definitely going to be on his mind the next time he woke up to a particularly _interesting_ dream. Definite masturbation material.

_I am a gross, gross man._

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Kenma said, completely unaware that he was committing murder. He leaned down and pulled on the pants. He had to tug the drawstring as tight as it would go to keep them secure on his hips. 

“Can I go with you?” Kuroo paused. “Wait, is that weird to ask?”

“What would be weird about it? It’s like going to the hospital. You can go.” 

Kuroo was struggling into his own set of pajamas. Lifting his arms while wrestling with the hem of his shirt was proving a particular challenge given how his muscles protested. Kenma, sensing his trouble, walked over. “Can you raise your arms?”

“Sort of?” Kuroo smiled sheepishly and did his best. With gentle fingers, Kenma slid the shirt up and over his arms, dropping it on the floor next to them. He picked up the new shirt and, with infinite care, helped Kuroo into it. By the time they were done, Kuroo was panting with effort and feeling pretty sorry for himself. 

Kenma didn’t give him much of a chance to wallow. “Come to bed,” he said, fingers light on Kuroo’s arm. 

Kuroo didn’t argue. He wobbled over to the bed and gingerly laid down, scooting to the side to make room for Kenma. Kenma spent a moment smoothing out the covers before he slid in after him and pulled the covers up over them both. As soon as they were settled, Kenma turned onto his side and curled up against Kuroo like a cat, huddled against his side with his head pressing against Kuroo’s shoulder. His arm draped over Kuroo’s stomach, and Kuroo rested his hand on Kenma’s forearm. 

For a while they were silent. Kuroo felt himself drifting, but…

“Kenma? Are you asleep?”

Kenma hummed and shook his head.

“Can I—you remember how I said that jail time gives you a lot of time for introspection?” He looked over. In the dim light, Kenma’s eyes glowed an ethereal gold, the circuitry inside them arranging and rearranging itself. He could tell he had the android’s full attention. “It’s just, well, I had a lot of time to think.”

“As you said.”

“Just—“ _Please don’t interrupt me or I might not get this out,_ Kuroo thought desperately. “I spent a lot of time thinking about you. About us.”

“Mm.”

Kuroo shifted so that he was lying on his side, their faces only inches apart, so he could look at Kenma properly. His hand slithered between them, finding Kenma’s hand in the dark and holding it to his chest. “I thought about us a lot,” he said again. “I thought about everything we’ve done together, everything we’ve been through. I thought about the time we met, and how I made you get to know me—“

“Hounded me.”

“—made you get to know me,” Kuroo said with a laugh. “I thought a lot about the moment your fingers slipped from mine at the protest and how I thought my heart would shatter. I think I realized it then.” He paused, then continued. “No. I realized it a lot before then.”

“Kuro. You’re stalling.” Kenma squeezed his hand, and Kuroo knew that he knew what was yet unsaid.

“I love you, Kenma. I think I’ve loved you since our first night at Nekoma. I just… I love you a lot,” he finished lamely, his words hitting an abrupt halt when he saw the way Kenma lit up. 

For a few minutes, there was silence between them. Kuroo knew Kenma wasn’t often emotive, and so wasn’t upset by the silence. It was comfortable, echoing with his confession and the warmth of their bodies under the sheets. 

But then Kenma surprised him.

“I love you too,” he said into the silence, his voice almost inaudible. “I think I… no, I know I have for a long time.”

Kuroo’s heart stuttered in his chest. He swore he felt it stop, then kick into high gear. In his elation, he fell back into dumb jokes. “I knew it!” he gasped. “No one can resist a knight in shining armor rescuing a damsel in distress. It was that moment you knew, right?”

Kenma rolled his eyes, but smiled. “If it makes you feel better.”

“I could not possibly feel better than I do right now. I mean, aside from all the pain and stuff.”

Kenma opted not to answer. Instead he scooted forward until their noses brushed together and pressed his lips to Kuroo’s mouth. It was warm and full and passionate while remaining chaste, all the words said and unsaid spoken with just a touch of lips. When the kiss ended, Kenma curled back up, pressing his forehead to Kuroo’s sternum. Kuroo shifted so his chin was resting on Kenma’s head. He kept their fingers locked, arms squeezed between them. 

All at once, the relief of being home in his bed, Kenma pressed against him, no more protest, no more jail, no more hospital, hit Kuroo like a ton of bricks. He felt the tension leave his body and he relaxed against Kenma with a smile. He was bone tired, but the happiest he had ever been.

“Good night, Kuro,” Kenma whispered against his collarbones. 

“Good night, kitten,” Kuroo said sleepily. “I love you.”

“…I love you too.”

Kuroo slept better than he ever had.

\---

_“Probots have something to celebrate today in the wake of a protest that ended in catastrophic violence. Numerous people were jailed and even more hospitalized as the conflict between probots and robophobes escalated. Police were on hand to help restore order._

_“President Filmore today announced that he and other government officials will be discussing allowing androids to own property in the Green Light District. Until now, androids have been relegated to the Metal District, commonly referred to as Junktown, with no access to property rights outside the district._

_“A final decision is expected later this week. We will keep you informed as the situation develops.”_

Kuroo and Kenma sat watching the screen with identical looks of shock. Slowly, Kuroo turned his head to face Kenma.

“Holy shit,” he said. “We did it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are. After this is a short epilogue that I will post tomorrow so we can be all wrapped up by the end of the year. 
> 
> Fun fact: before I learned how to edit my ideas to something not insane, Kuroo was originally going to be shipped off to a spaceship that served as a jail and everyone was going to stage a jailbreak ala Scandroid's [Breakout](https://youtu.be/JtGdfkkGoxk). I ultimately decided that was a bit much, and this happened instead. 
> 
> I don't know how jails work so let's just assume it works like this since it's an AU city on an AU world.
> 
> I will save all my sappy thanks and heartfelt words of love and amazement until tomorrow. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy.
> 
> [aazeris.tumblr.com](http://aazeris.tumblr.com)


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

“Honey, I’m ho~ome,” Kuroo sing-songed as he stepped into the apartment.

Kenma looked up from his spot on the floor surrounded by a sea of boxes. His hair was tucked behind his ears, clipped back from his forehead. “You were gone for a while. Are you trying to avoid unpacking?”

Kuroo looked affronted. “Never! I had a Very Important errand to run.” He held up the bag he was carrying and swung it from side to side. 

Kenma tilted his head to one side. “Snacks?”

“Nope!”

“Hangers we can use for the walls?”

“Nothing so prosaic! But, you’re getting warmer! It _is_ for the wall.”

Kenma’s curious look turned into a flat stare. “Kuro, just tell me what it is.”

Kuroo walked over and reached down, taking one of Kenma’s hands and tugging him to his feet. He then dug around in the bag, pulling out a plain black frame and discarding the bag on the floor. Kenma looked at the bag in exasperation.

“I’ll pick it up, I’ll pick it up. You’re not focusing on the right thing, kitten.” He turned the frame around, front side to Kenma, and held it up at eye level. “Ta-da!”

Kenma peered at it. Inside the frame was… a copy of their leasing agreement. He had only framed the most important last page, where at the bottom were scrawled two signatures in blocky characters: _Kuroo Tetsurou_ and _Kozume Kenma_.

Kuroo swept back to the doorway and held the frame up next to the door. “I want to put it right here so we can see it every time we walk in and out. What do you think?”

Kenma turned his head to hide his small smile. “You are the sappiest person I know,” he said fondly.

“Kenma! It’s our first apartment together! Not only that, but it’s the first apartment in the Green Light District you’re able to put your name on. Don’t you think that needs to be celebrated?”

Walking over, Kenma slid his arms around Kuroo’s waist and rested his head against his chest. “Yes. I do.”

Kuroo, not letting go of Kenma, set the frame carefully on a nearby stack of boxes. He then leaned down, wrapped his arms firmly around Kenma’s waist, and lifted him up, settling the both of them into a spin. Kenma made a small noise of surprise and hurriedly wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s neck to keep himself upright. “Kenma! I’m so excited!” he shouted. 

The action startled Kenma into a laugh. “Kuro! Put me down.”

Kuroo did not. Instead he did another rotation and kept shouting. “This is the first day of the rest of our lives, kitten!” Finally, he set Kenma back on the ground, but did not let go. His grin was wide and infectious. Even Kenma couldn’t hide his return smile. 

He leaned down to claim Kenma’s lips in a soft kiss. As Kenma’s hand buried itself in Kuroo’s hair, Kuroo tilted his head to angle their lips together. He sucked Kenma’s lower lip between his and ran his tongue over it. Kenma in turn darted his tongue out to brush against Kuroo’s.

At length, Kuroo pulled away, leaning his forehead against Kenma’s. “I think we should christen the apartment,” he said with a devilish smile. 

Kenma rolled his eyes and shoved Kuroo away. “I was waiting for you to say that,” he huffed. “Koutarou and Keiji will be here any minute with lunch. You really think _now_ is the time?”

“I think all times are the time,” Kuroo laughed. “But I guess you have a point."

“I love you,” Kenma said.

Kuroo’s eyes widened, the way they always did when Kenma initiated affection, and his grin turned up a few watts. “I love you too, Kenma. Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. This has been an amazing journey and I'm so glad you were here to share it with me. This is by far the longest fanfiction I've ever written (by about 42,000 words, at that) and the support I have gotten through this project has been nothing short of amazing. Thank you so much for every comment, every kudos, every message, and every show of support. Your kindness means the world to me.
> 
> So what next? I have a Bokuaka spin-off in mind but to be quite honest, I'm not sure I could do Bokuto the justice he really deserves. So we'll see where that ends up. As far as Kurokens go though, I have about sixteen billion AU ideas for them, so rest assured you will see more from me in the future. I hope to see you there!
> 
> Thank you, thank you. And Happy New Year!
> 
> Come talk to me! [aazeris.tumblr.com](http://aazeris.tumblr.com)


End file.
